


The Mother We Share

by Avogara



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Neglect, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Cooking, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heroes, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Little Kenma, Little Kuroo, Parental Love, Parental Rage, Post-Divorce, Rescue Missions, Swearing, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:14:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22634923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avogara/pseuds/Avogara
Summary: “My life is ruined,” Kuroo stated blandly and muffled into the covers. He didn’t move. Kenma tapped him with his blanketed foot.“Why’s that?”“Because I can’t go to camp with you.”Kenma frowned deeply at this and squinted his golden eyes.“Why not?”“Because I have to go stay with my mom…”“You have a mom?”—How Kuroo became part of the Kozume family after one tragic summer vacation.
Relationships: Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 47
Kudos: 197





	1. Boys Cry Sometimes Too

"She _WHAT?"_ Joji Kuroo boomed over the house phone at the kitchen table which was covered in papers that were in desperate need of grading. He unknowingly startled his son Tetsurou who was playing just outside with his new volleyball in their backyard beyond the open sliding doors. A summer afternoon breeze wafted into the traditional home and ruffled the papers at the low table, slightly disorganizing them in front of dark eyes that didn't notice.

"Hamano-san, you can't be serious… Why the… How in the…"

Joji was trying _very_ hard not to curse in front of his son who he knew was listening outside because A) Tetsurou was _always_ listening and B) he did not want to be called into another parent/teacher conference to explain why "shit" was in the vocabulary of his nine year old. Thank god that was _all_ he had said in class because the little smarty pants knew a hell of a lot more than that. After the embarrassing meeting, they had discussed why it wasn't okay for him to say those words because they were adult-only words. If he needed special child-friendly expletives then he’d have to stick with "poop," "sugar," "that stinks," or really any other number of non-explicitly offensive words. He could use his imagination if he wanted alternatives.

The closest Tetsurou had gotten to cursing after his warning was saying "darn it" in front of his obaachan when she won a game of shogi off him. Luckily, baba was cool and only admonished her own son _after_ Tetsu had run off to play.

"Yes, I understand that but… But _how?_ I thought we had tied all of this up? How can she come back now and… Yes. _Yes._ This is such bull—" Joji stopped himself as he heard the soft plunking of the volleyball come to a halt.

He lowered his voice.

 _"Yes,_ I _get_ that, but she had her chance Hamano-san. Didn't she? She's the one who gave up and signed the papers. We all agreed on full-custody with me and no further involvement beyond—Well, yes. But that shouldn't matter now, right? ...You're joking. _Seriously?_ Fucking hell, of course she did..."

Whelp, he tried.

Joji Kuroo was not a perfect man and he'd be the first to admit it. So if his son repeated that to anyone anytime soon he would be embarrassed again for sure, but it may very well be worth it because he was _furious_ right now. _Livid_ even. He wanted to be a good example as much as he could, but this call with his lawyer was destroying him from the inside out and it wasn't even half over yet.

Joji sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses and wild black waves of bedhead.

"Could you… could you hold on a second? I know. Yes, he is, that's why I'm asking," the distressed father sighed again. He covered the phone with his hand and lowered it.

"Tetsurou!"

The sound of shuffling outside in the grass and dirt could be heard before his son's equally messy black bedhead popped up from beyond the porch deck.

"Yea, dad?" He asked innocently, as if he _hadn't_ just been eavesdropping.

"Kiddo, why don't you go play next door for a little while?" Joji offered, his tone softened from the tension he had just moments before. "I heard Kenma-kun got a new game. Maybe you can go check it out."

He really hoped he would take the bait. Tetsurou had a tendency to question _everything,_ which was both the blessing and the curse of being a science professor's son. It often made Joji proud, but almost equally as often made things harder because he had to explain, argue, or defend his decisions as a parent far more than it seemed like others had to do. Miki Kozume next door never had trouble with her son Kenma in that department. That kid was quiet, reserved, but sharp and also very sweet. He did as his mother told him to (at least that's how it seemed from the time they'd lived here and been neighbors), and he hoped his own offspring would take a page from the Kozume book and just do as he was told for once.

"But why?"

Of course but why. It was always but why.

"Because dad has some important, boring adult stuff he needs to discuss on the phone now," Joji said simply.

Please god, let that work. Lawyers were very expensive to put on hold, but he really needed his son to leave so that he didn't catch any more than he already had from the tense conversation.

"I'll be quiet," Tetsurou promised, blinking a few times like he wasn't sure if he had done something wrong to be "kicked out" of the house or not. Usually Joji only asked him to leave when he was at his wit's end or it was nice enough outside that his kid should be out doing things anyway.

"Just for a little bit bud. You didn't do anything, I just need to have a grown up talk with some quiet time, okay?" Kuroo senior explained gently.

Tetsurou seemed relieved that he wasn't in trouble. He grabbed his volleyball from the yard and took off running around the house. Joji heard the fence gate swing open and lock shut again. He sighed in relief, but immediately felt the horrible sense of doom settling back inside him.

"Are you still there Hamano-san? Okay, good. _Please_ tell me you have a plan to get us out of this."

—

"Hey Kenma! _Kenma!_ Kennnnnmmmaaaaa!"

Tetsurou threw another tiny rock up at the second story side window of his next door neighbors' house. It plinked harmlessly against the glass and fell back to the ground. He scrambled over to retrieve it from the bushes for another go, when he heard the familiar sliding sound above.

The little roosterhead peered up with a wide, dirt-smudged grin.

"Hi!" Tetsurou called brightly.

"Hi," his friend said softly down from his bedroom. "What're you doing?"

"Trying to get you to open your window, duh!" Tetsurou laughed, biting his chapped lip with his last baby canine. His grin was currently partially toothless thanks to a few recent lucky wiggles.

"Well, you did it," Kenma stated blankly. His head turned to the side making his black chin length hair hang away from his face. "What do you want?"

"Do you wanna play?" The boisterous little neighbor asked him instead.

"I have a new game," Kenma held up his equally new Game Boy Advance SP that he must have interrupted him playing because Kuroo's sharp ears could faintly hear the blips of 8-bit electronic music lilting out of the window above.

"Yea, that's cool, but _I_ got a new volleyball!"

He held up the already dirt-covered blue and yellow Mikasa VUL-500, youth-weighted, microfiber composite ball of awesomeness.

His friend frowned and lowered his game.

"But it's Zelda…" Kenma said quietly as if that made any difference at all to his non-video game literate friend. Kuroo understood Virtua Fighter and that was about it.

"But Kennnnmmmaaa," Tetsurou whined, slumping his shoulders and dropping the ball from above his head. He looked pretty pathetic down there all by himself.

"Okay, fine…" huffed the eight year old gamer.

"Woohoo! Meet you around back!" The suntanned and bandage-patched kid shouted as he broke for the gate to the Kozume backyard. He loved hanging out with his neighbor buddy now that they had gotten to know each other over the past year. Kuroo didn't dare say it aloud for fear of jinxing it, but they were becoming such good friends that Kenma was close to qualifying for _best friend_ material if he played his cards right.

A few minutes later the Kozume boy came downstairs and padded out to his own backyard porch where he promptly sat down and booted up his game again.

Tetsurou groaned when he realized Kenma had zero intentions of playing _with_ him right now.

"Can't you just do that later?" Little Kuroo asked petulantly as he tossed his ball up and down.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kenma said without looking up from his button-mashing fight with a pesky forest monster.

"We can't play ball when it's dark out!" Tetsurou whined as he began to throw it higher into the air and bump it back up with his forearms. They were already slightly bruised and dirty from earlier.

"Yea, well I can't play my game at night either."

"That is BS Kenma, I can see the glow from your screen at night all the way from my house," Kuroo said, smacking the ball at an off angle and sending it flying off into the yard.

"What's BS mean?" Kenma looked up with a furrowed brow. "And why are you watching me from your room? That's so creepy..."

Tetsu fumbled the ball. He chased after it some more then re-centered himself near his friend again.

"BS is bullsugar," he explained matter-of-factly as he reset his practice solo ball bumping.

"Bullsugar?" Kenma still looked very confused. "What's _that_ even mean?"

"Like, not true."

"...Are you calling me a liar?"

 _"NO,_ I'm just saying we all know you play your games at night even after lights out."

"Wow," Kenma said simply, shaking his head and turning back to his game.

"Wow, what?" Now Tetsurou was confused.

"You totally are stalking me," Kenma mused as he hacked and slashed his way through tall grasses to get rupees.

"What's that mean? Stalking?" Kuroo scrunched up his smudged nose as he caught the ball with all ten mostly undamaged fingers.

Kenma cracked the tiniest ornery smile, but didn't break his concentration with the device. For once he knew a word that Kuroo didn't.

"You should know because you're a stalker."

 _"Come on,_ Kenma! Just tell me!"

"It means you follow someone around without them really knowing about it. Like a spy, but it's not a good thing. It's creepy," the little gamer explained as he shoved a sword through the heart of an annoying carnivorous plant.

"I'm not doing _that!"_ Tetsurou spat as he frowned deeply at his preoccupied friend. "I can see your window when I'm working with my telescope at night is all... I can't help it," he admitted feeling a bit guilty that this bothered his friend. He didn't even fully realize he was doing it.

Kuroo then bounced the ball up so high he became nervous it would end up on the roof like last time, but instead his mind became distracted by a mysterious noise. Beyond the fence that the Kozume and Kuroo families shared, the children heard the unmistakable sound of someone crying.

The dirty volleyball thudded to the ground.

"Wha… what's that..?" Kenma asked in a hush as he slowly leaned up from his handheld game. His black bangs parting a clear startled look of golden wide-eyed concern and shock. The fighting sounds were drowned out by the game's electronic character death music and the low, heaving sobs that were still echoing up in waves from over the fence.

Tetsurou gulped as he glanced hesitantly and slightly open-mouthed over at the Kozumes' blooming blue and purple hydrangeas along the fence.

It was his father.

And he was definitely, unmistakably upset.

The strange, unfamiliar sounds of sorrow were mixed with the deafening chorus of cicadas and other summer afternoon insects as the sun sank lower in the pink orange clouded sky.

The little roosterhead had no idea _why_ his dad was crying outside in their backyard. Tetsurou had only ever seen his dad cry once before, and that was when he told him that he was divorcing his mother and they had to move. Immediately. It scared him to know there were other things that could scare his dad enough to cry. The Kuroos were not generally criers (because they were laughers), but his dad had always made it clear that it was okay to cry, even if you were a boy. Because boys have feelings too and that's okay.

"Uhm… maybe I should… go check on him," Kuroo glanced over at his friend who was still staring in wide-eyed horror at the fence where the low, soft sniffles and shudders beyond were not letting up.

Kuroo ran at full speed back over to his house, leaving the forgotten volleyball in the Kozumes' backyard.

"...Dad?" Tetsurou ventured cautiously as he padded over dusty, grass-stained, and barefoot to the open sliding door out the back of their house. His father was sitting on the edge of the wooden porch and glanced over immediately when he heard the small voice.

"Tetsu-chan…" His dad said brightly and with slight relief. He palmed off some of his tears, glasses in hand, and smiled, which reassured him just the tiniest bit. "Come sit with me bud."

Tetsurou walked out into the warm, gentle breeze of summer and plunked down on the ledge next to his dad who immediately leaned a lanky arm around him, pulling him into a big side hug. His father sniffed, but squeezed him tight—his large experiment-calloused and healed over fingers pressing into the scrawny tanning arm of his child.

"Sorry about that kiddo. Guess I wasn't as quiet as I thought I was, huh? Dad's just a little… a little emotional today," he sniffed again trying to wipe off more moisture, but gave up and just ran his fingers through his crazed black tresses.

"Why are you sorry? You said it was okay for boys to cry," Tetsu cocked an eyebrow up at him suspiciously, but this actually made his father laugh.

"I suppose I did, didn't I? I'm glad you listen to me sometimes," Kuroo senior ruffled his son's messy black bedhead which was mirroring his own so much more these days. "I did mean that Tetsurou. You don't have to be ashamed _ever_ for that, okay? Crying just means you're human."

The nine year old peered up at his old man who still had drying tears on his face. He seemed more calm now that he was with him, but he still didn't understand.

"What happened dad?" Little Kuroo asked quietly, resting a small hand on his father's knee. It's what his dad always did to comfort him if he had to tell him something hard like explaining how he'd gotten a B on a science test even though he _knew_ he knew it all. Kuroos didn't get B's in science, they were MEN of science as his dad always proudly proclaimed.

Truth be told, Joji didn't care that he had gotten a B. It just warmed his heart to know that his son did care and wanted to be just like him one day.

Right now, however, it was hard for him to look at his child who so innocently stared up at him with eyes just like his own. He was trying to think of the best way to explain to him that no, he would not be attending science camp next week OR coach Nekomata's youth volleyball camp with his friend the following week OR their annual camping trip they had planned on doing together the weekend after that. Instead he had to figure out a child-friendly way to say that his bitch of an ex-wife had goddamn boomed them in court to somehow get the right to have Tetsurou for practically the entirety of summer break regardless of legal custody agreements or what their son wanted or what he had already planned to do with one of his last precious childhood summers.

Fucking hell.

"Why don't we go make dinner, huh?" His dad said instead, trying to buy himself more time.

"But dad—"

"Tetsu-chan, how many times do I have to tell you I'm not a Butt Dad? Maybe a Science Dad or a Nerd Dad or a Weird Dad, but never a Butt Dad!" Joji laughed as he leaned one large hand against the wooden deck, quickly kissed his son's scruffy black hair, then mussed it up even more with an affectionate ruffle.

Tetsurou cracked that wide half toothless signature grin of his and tried to shove the offending hand off.

"Come on, bud. We'll make whatever you want tonight," his dad offered, getting up stiffly.

"Can we have fish tacos?" Tetsu's dark eyes went wide as he scrambled to his feet to chase his father inside.

"You really liked them the other day on campus, didn't you?" Kuroo senior asked with his own signature grin as he opened the freezer door. "Who knew one cheap food truck meal could be so influential," he laughed pulling out some cod that could maybe work.

"What's that word mean?" Tetsurou asked as he washed his little hands in the sink. He always tried to help out with cooking, and if he didn't help he liked watching his dad cut, chop, season, grill, sauté, roast, and prepare their food. Asking questions and learning about what sorts of things were happening chemically to make the ingredients change form into something that tasted so good.

"What does influential mean?" His dad pondered as he pulled out some veggies, marinade, and seasonings. "That's a good question. It means something that has a lot of impact. Something important that has a big effect on something else."

"Like an experiment?"

"Kind of. But it doesn't have to be an experiment. It could be a person or a place or something that happens to you."

"Oh. Okay."

Joji Kuroo's heart sank to the pit of his stomach again as he washed his hands and thawed the fish in the microwave.

This summer would be influential to his son whether he liked it or not. It might even change the person he ends up being in the future because of that wreck of a woman. She already lost full custody of him once, why wasn't that enough? Why did they have to keep giving her second chances when she did nothing to show that she deserved them?

Joji was nervous. Very nervous. But he wanted at least one more blissful summer night before he had to break his son's heart and probably his trust in him too. He felt like a failure for not being able to do more to stop this kind of thing from happening. He honestly thought he HAD done enough, but that clearly wasn’t the case in court.

So they made fish tacos together and laughed about how they tasted nothing like the food truck's, but that was okay because they were decent in their own right. They were _Kuroo-style_ tacos.

Joji Kuroo would make codfish tacos for many years that way as he held onto the memory of his eager nine year old who so earnestly wanted to learn everything he could ever teach him. It would be the last time he remembered seeing the innocent wonder and sparkle reflected in the dark eyes that were so much like his own when they cooked together. Quite honestly, he believed this was because food meant something different to his son after the horrible events of that summer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had the urge to write a kid fic for these two knuckleheads, so here we are! 
> 
> How is Kuroo going to survive his summer without Kenma? Why does his mom want anything to do with him now? He won't seriously have to miss volleyball camp, right? 
> 
> Let me know what you think and stayed tuned to find out!


	2. Daddy Loves You

Tetsurou Kuroo hadn't had a complete and utter meltdown in a very long time.

He didn't even really cry that much when his father Joji had broken the divorce news to him, which maybe shouldn't have been a surprise given that his mom wasn't around much at that point anyway. Tetsurou was actually far more upset that he would have to move away from his friends and school than anything else.

By that time, Nyoko Kuroo was already off fooling around with other men in seedy places only to come back home late and drunk or high on whatever free shit she’d been given that night. Back then, Joji had actually been grateful that she was at least out of the house and away from their son—only stumbling back in once he was already safe and asleep in bed. He didn’t want Tetsurou to see her destroying herself and her life while ruining theirs at the same time.

So one day after carefully planning out an exit strategy, Joji told his wife he wanted a divorce and that he fully intended on getting custody of their son in the process. An ugly, ugly battle ensued mostly surrounding who deserved parental rights and privileges and to what extent, which was stupid because Joji _knew_ that she didn’t want to keep Tetsurou. She could barely take care of herself—why would she want to take care of a six year old?

They duked it out in the courts, which took several years, a ridiculous amount of settlement money that he didn’t really have on a teacher’s salary, _and_ having to move out with his parents for Joji to finally get back on his feet again. He just wanted his son to have a normal, boring, fun childhood—was that so much to ask? Not a traumatizing, emotionally-devastating crash course through hardcore adult-level bullshit that Nyoko kept dragging them through. Drugs. Booze. Rehab. Relapse. Drugs. Men. Booze. Rehab. Relapse. Rinse. Repeat. It was always the same old shit with her over and over again and Joji Kuroo just couldn’t take it anymore.

He did love her a long time ago when they were young and carefree, and he loved her even more when she became pregnant and gave birth to their son. Although they were in their early 20’s he thought he was living the life he was meant to live. He had a beautiful wife and a beautiful child, and even though he didn’t make a ton of money he was happy in their tiny apartment on his tiny wages with their tiny, precious boy.

That was until he’d come home and found her on the floor tripping acid while their one year old was crawling around the apartment unattended and teething on a lamp cord. Why had the lamp fallen over and exposed the cord? Why was his wife convulsing and throwing up on their carpet? Why had their baby not been changed or watched or safeguarded from almost electrocuting himself?

Joji Kuroo didn’t know. He just didn’t know.

He also didn’t know that his wife had severe depression, even before he’d met her, but especially so after she’d had their son. Loving her had been very hard. He tried his best to get her the help she needed and also tried to never leave Tetsurou alone with her again—preferring to have his parents babysit if he was gone for any length of time. For years Joji kept trying to make it all work because he wanted so badly to go back to the blissful innocence they'd once had together. When she was so confident and boisterous and glowing with self-righteous positivity that she felt like a summer storm. Electric, wild, beautiful, and free.

But that Nyoko was gone. She’d been gone for a very long time.

Knowing that it was the right thing to do, Joji got his son as far away from the wreckage of his mother’s indiscretions as possible. First moving out into a temporary apartment farther north near Tokyo, then searching for a job and a rental home with the help of his own mother and father. His parents couldn’t bear the thought of being so far away from their son and grandchild, so they hatched a plan to move with them—at least at first to help them figure things out and re-adjust Tetsurou to what family life was _supposed_ to be like. The Kuroos did eventually find a home in a pleasant western Tokyo suburb, which was close to the university Joji had just gotten a new job at. Things settled and felt like they were going right for the first time in ages.

Until Joji got the call from his lawyer last Tuesday.

He hadn’t said anything to his son that night, and then he chickened out on Wednesday too because he was still at a complete loss of what to say, how to say it, and how to make his son not hate him at the end of all this. So he did what few men seem to do when they have a problem.

He asked for help.

“Miki-san, I don’t know what I’m going to tell him…”

Kuroo senior ran his fingers through his crazed black tresses for the 67th time in the past half an hour as he sat on a neighborhood park bench with his next door parent friend Miki Kozume. They watched as their sons Kenma and Tetsurou pitched a volleyball back and forth in the open grassy area adjacent to the playground, which was occupied by a few other smaller children and their parents.

“Jo, I think you’re just going to have to be honest with him,” Miki said curling a silky black bang behind her ear as she glanced over at her disheveled neighbor. He looked like he had gotten exactly zero sleep last night.

The park had always been a good place to have more or less private adult conversation without seeming super weird to prying eyes. It shouldn't have been taboo for one divorced guy and a married lady both with children to talk to each other, but it was to some extent. Which was absolutely ridiculous. After all, they were neighbors, and more than that they had become friends.

“But, like, how honest is _too_ honest? I can’t just say _‘Tetsurou, your mom hates me so in order to make me suffer she’d like to make YOU suffer by ruining your entire month of summer vacation.’”_

“Yea, that’s in the too honest category for sure,” Miki deadpanned and then shook her head. She flicked her golden eyes back to their children who were chasing after a rogue ball. “BOYS! NOT NEAR THE ROAD! Bring it back in!”

Little Kenma and Tetsurou looked back over at their parents and a moment later the sweet rooster-headed mini-Kuroo grabbed the ball and gave her a thumbs up. They trailed back closer to the center of the field and farther from light traffic on the road beyond.

Miki sighed.

“Joji, how long have we known each other? A year? A year and halfish?”

“Something like that,” the lanky science professor murmured beyond his hands as he rested his face in them.

“Right, so in that time I’ve seen you be incredibly strong for your son,” Miki started carefully. “You’ve built a good life for him here, and you’ve done everything you can to make sure he’s safe and healthy and happy.”

“I don’t feel like I have…”

“Oh, _come on._ That’s bullshit Joji and you know it,” his neighbor said in a tone that was somehow both admonishing and caring at the same time. “You're hitting your first real bump since then. Of course it’s scary...”

Her golden eyes traced the movements of their sons. They were laughing about something. She could hear the echoes of those carefree little boys clear across the field.

“I think you and I both know your ex won’t be able to handle him anyway,” Miki reasoned, tilting her head to the side to take in his severely hunched form and worsening mad scientist bedhead.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Joji sighed, leaning back against the bench and staring up into the clouded, moody sky. “She doesn’t know _anything_ about kids. She never did. She is going to expose him to all sorts of bad shit and then I’m going to have to explain to my nine year old what crack pipes and condoms are.”

 _“Whoa_ —she doesn’t really do crack, does she?” Miki whispered conspiratorially leaning closer to him.

“I have no idea… And maybe I’m giving her too much credit, she probably doesn’t use condoms...” Joji said bitterly.

“Geez. That’s rough,” Miki mused, sighing again as she turned to watch the boys who were now kneeling in the grass. Kenma appeared to be crying and Tetsurou looked like he was comforting him.

“Christ, I’ll go see what’s going on…”

The Kozume woman got up from the bench, but turned back to her friend who was still staring at the cloudy afternoon sky above them. It looked like a storm was coming.

“Joji-san.”

“Yea?”

“You can do this.”

“Thanks…”

With that, Miki Kozume jogged off in the direction of her crying child and his loyal friend.

"Boys! What happened?" Miki called as she approached her sobbing kid and his wide-eyed companion in the grassy open field of the neighborhood park.

"It was an accident!" Tetsurou said immediately. "I-I didn't mean to hit him in the face, the ball just… I dunno, it moved when it fell!"

He was telling the truth, Miki could see that much. Little Kuroo had this horrified look of concern plastered transparently all over his face as he watched large tears roll down her son's cheeks and listened to his hiccuping sobs.

"Okay," she crouched down, cupping Kenma's face on either side gently in her hands. "Honey, where did it get you?" She wiped one huge tear out from under his eye with her nail polished thumb as his crying slowed considerably into sniffles.

Kenma just pointed shakily to his cheekbone on one side, which was pretty red, but not bruised. It did seem really close to his eye, which was a little concerning.

"Did it hit your eye Kenma?" His mom asked evenly.

He shook his head no.

Thank god.

"Did it just scare you?" She clarified, running two fingers through his black bangs to tuck them behind his ears. His hair was getting so long lately, but he kept insisting that he liked it that way so she let it go. Some battles weren't worth fighting and she supposed it was growing on her anyway.

Little Kenma nodded his head, but winced when he flexed his cheek the wrong way.

"Okay, I'm sorry you were scared sweetheart, but Tetsu didn't mean it. Did you Tetsurou-chan?" Miki said as she pulled Kenma to her chest to give him a hug. Sometimes he just needed to be reassured that things were okay. That he was okay.

"Of course I didn't!" The bed-headed and volley-bruised kid said instantly, his dark eyes still wide with horror as his slightly toothless mouth hung open. "I'm really sorry Kenma. I really didn't mean to bean you in the face."

"Now that's one I haven't heard," Kenma's mom said dryly as she wiped a few more clinging tears from her son's eyes and ruffled a hand along his back.

It was at that moment that a few fleeting rain drops sunk into Miki's shirt, which didn't matter much because it was already damp from the emotions of her eight year old.

"Ugh. Looks like it's going to rain boys. I think this is a good stopping place for today. Kenma, can you stand up so we can say goodbye to Tetsu-chan and Joji-san? We need to go get some groceries on the way home, so I don't want to keep them."

She stood up clutching her child and letting go when he seemed fine to stand on his own. He wasn't crying anymore, but he still looked sad for some reason. Almost immediately, Tetsurou threw his scrawny, tanned arms around the little gamer, burrowing his face in his shoulder as he squeezed him tight.

"I'm really, really sorry Kenma," he mumbled through the fabric of his t-shirt. He was a bit taller than the other little boy, which meant he had to bend over slightly in order to achieve this vice grip of true friendship.

Kenma nodded and hugged him back, sniffing a bit as the remnants of tears dried on his puffy, reddened cheeks.

Miki sighed happily and mildly exhausted through her nose. These boys were something, that was for sure.

Joji Kuroo walked over to their peaceful resolution.

"Everything alright?" He asked, eyeing Miki then his son and Kenma.

"We'll live I think," the raven haired woman said optimistically. "Good luck getting home. We're splitting for some groceries first. I told Kiyoshi I'd make him okonomiyaki since he hasn't been home in awhile."

"Ah, alright then. We'll see you around. Tetsurou, why don’t you thank Kenma-kun for playing with you today?" Joji said in a more positive tone than Miki had heard since they'd gotten here. She had to admit, he could really turn on the charm when he had to, even if he was dying on the inside like she knew he was.

Tetsurou leaned back from his hug taking in Kenma’s solemn and ruddy face, but then immediately went back in for one more quick squeeze.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” The littler Kuroo promised to his friend earnestly. “I don’t think you’ll have any internal bleeding from it. Right dad?”

“Internal… what? Did you hit him or something?” Joji blinked, now looking worriedly at the shades of red he just noticed on his kid neighbor’s cheek.

“It’s fine,” Miki interjected nonchalantly. “Rogue ball to the face. Not the first time, won’t be the last time. Thanks for being such a good friend Tetsu-chan. Kenma’s really lucky to have you, you know.”

At this, the nine year old let go of his volley buddy and grinned with a brilliance that only those with childhood innocence, pride, and gaps between their teeth could effectively pull off.

“No, I think I’m really lucky to have Kenma! He’s the brains behind this operation anyway,” Tetsurou beamed at his friend who seemed embarrassed that he had shared this contextless detail of their juvenile volleyball fantasies with their parents.

The setter-in-training was clinging to his mom’s pant leg, presumably in case that would help him disappear altogether. It wasn't working, but a kid could try.

“Ehhh? Kenma you didn’t tell me that!” His mom said energetically as she cupped his head to her side with one hand and hip bumped him.

To this, Kenma said nothing. He was still moody from being hit in the face and it was clear they weren’t going to get any more meaningful conversation out of him.

“Alright! We’ll catch you cats later then,” Miki said as she nudged Kenma for his hand, which he readily gave her.

“Sounds good,” Joji agreed. “Tetsurou, go grab your ball bud. We gotta try to make it home before it really starts raining.”

“Thanks for playing with me Kenma!” The smaller bed-headed wonder called across the field as he and his dad began to pick up the pace through the steadily increasing raindrops. “Let’s play again tomorrow, okay?!”

With that, the Kuroos and the Kozumes parted ways from their favorite neighborhood hangout spot.

Miki would be lying if she said she wasn’t worried about the conversation Joji was about to have with his son. Tetsurou was such a kind and tender-hearted kid that she really hated the idea of him going off to be with some woman who had already done a significant amount of damage to her neighbors’ lives in addition to very clearly having a loose set of morals to begin with.

Life wasn’t fair though.

The whole situation made her feel grateful for what she had, but it also gave her a restless sort of itch in the back of her mind that told her this was wrong. Something was all wrong, but she couldn’t do anything about it.

So she jogged through the rain with her own son, dodging puddles and trying to get to the tiny corner grocery store before the heavens let loose on them completely. All she could do now was hope beyond hope that her sweet, precocious neighbor boy would return home safe and sound in a few weeks time.

—

Joji Kuroo was, unfortunately, a procrastinator.

It was something he hoped wouldn't be passed down to his son, but given that he often helped him study and cram last minute for tests the likelihood of that parental wish coming true was pretty close to 0%.

They had gotten drenched on the way home from the park. Dripping wet and laughing in the genkan as they pulled off their shoes and decided to also strip off their wet clothes right there in the entrance way. It had been a while since Tetsurou's grandparents moved out into their own apartment in a senior living community nearby, so they could "break the rules" as much as they wanted to now. It was something Tetsu got a kick out of, but that Joji always reminded him it wasn't proper anywhere else but at home—he shouldn't go stripping at his friend Kenma's house or eating ice cream right out of the tub in front of jiji or baba.

God, Joji really wanted to wimp out with some ice cream right now.

If it were a normal summer vacation night (with no grading to be done and no university classes tomorrow), he would have absolutely gotten his son to take a bath, pulled out the mint chocolate chip along with two spoons, and found a cheesy sci-fi flick for them to watch and make fun of. The thunderstorm outside would have even been a nice addition to the scary-ish parts.

But tonight was not normal. There wouldn't be ice cream or snorting giggles or scientifically-impossible genetic mutations to throw corny insults at.

If he was lucky, Tetsurou would only cry a little bit and maybe fall asleep early. The chances of that happening were probably close to 15% if he had to guess.

To his misfortune, Joji Kuroo was often good at making educated hypotheses. Sometimes he hated the logical part of his brain because it made it so much harder to lie to himself. In many ways he cursed and admired the ignorant bliss that came with being part of the non-informed masses.

So he procrastinated his way through a quick dinner, which his son did not help with because he did in fact make him go get a shower to scrub off all the grass stains and dirt. After dinner, Joji hovered watching his kid play with some action figures in the living room and then hovered some more as he brushed his teeth. Joji was terrible at timing, but this awful secret was eating away at his insides and he had to tell him _tonight_ because tomorrow would be his last full day at home for a while and he still needed to help him pack and prepare him.

God he hated this, but he had to do it. It was one of those things you had to just suck up and get it over with as a responsible parent, even if it ripped the heart and soul out of you. And it's not like he hadn't made it through plenty of these things before. Newborn vaccinations. Check. First emergency room visit after probable exposure to drugs. Check. Divorce. Check. Moving away from friends. Check. Chicken pox. Check. First lost volleyball match. Check. Second emergency room visit from a bicycle accident resulting in seven stitches and a fractured arm. Check. First failed exam. Check. Emergency appendicitis operation. Check.

What would this even be defined as? Relapse in judicial sanity? Revenge of an ex wife? Third lifetime epic fail as a father?

He didn't know, and if there's one thing that always bothers a Kuroo it's not knowing. So he just… did it.

That night, as he was tucking his son underneath the Pokemon-themed sheets and comforter, he did not read another chapter of their sci-fi mystery novel that was just a few grades above Tetsurou's reading level. Instead, he gathered all his resolve and courage and gave his son one of the first traumatic memories he would never forget from that fateful summer.

"Tetsurou," Joji started as he pulled the covers up and lingered on the last few traces of his son's cluelessly innocent face. His child's wild black hair was already thoroughly mussed and his dark eyes were clearly tired from a long day of play and socializing.

"Yea, dad?"

It already hurt so bad. He hated this. If there was any way he could have spared his son this pain he would have.

Joji sighed heavily through his nose.

"Sometimes," he began. "Sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do."

"Like what?"

Of course like what.

"Well, sometimes I have to stay late at school, right? Or cover for another teacher or go away to conferences. You remember when I had to go away last fall, don't you?"

"Yea, it sucked eggs," the little Kuroo yawned and snuggled closer to his dad who was sitting on the edge of the twin bed.

"Yes. It did suck eggs," Joji agreed in the same child-friendly bad language that he already said was okay so long as Tetsurou didn't for-real swear in front of others.

"So… so sometimes we have to do sucky things and it's not always clear why, but we have to do them anyway."

"What do you have to do dad?"

His heart was already shattering along with his resolve. Joji sighed again and tried to maintain his composure.

"Tetsurou-chan, daddy got a call the other day—"

"When you were crying?" His precocious little smarty pants offered helpfully.

"Well, yes…" Of course he hadn't forgotten. "It wasn't a good call bud."

At this, his son's bruised arm poked out from the sheets and laid a hand on his dad's knee. His fingers curling in as his eyes fluttered shut. Joji was taking too long. Damn this procrastination habit.

"I did everything I could, but… but…"

The too innocent mirrors of his own eyes blinked open again, trying to listen. Trying to focus through a drifting haze of comfort and sleep.

He had to do it. Now or now, there was no never.

"Tetsurou, I am so, so sorry kiddo, but your mom wants you for a bit this summer and there wasn't anything I could do to convince the courts otherwise."

This did not sink in immediately.

His son's face shifted from drowsiness to puzzlement then confusion.

"What?"

Lord, he didn't want to say it again.

Joji licked his lips nervously and took his child's hand in his own.

"Buddy, I have to take you to your mom's place and you have to stay there for a few weeks."

Now it was sinking in a bit more. Slowly the gears were turning and his eyes became more alert with rising awareness and questions racing through his mind.

"I-I don't understand. Why? Why would I have to go dad? I don't want to go anywhere," his kid said simply. It was logical. He didn't want to, so he shouldn't have to.

"Because it's not up to us Tetsu-chan. The court is ordering you to go and we can't break the law," Kuroo senior said gently as he watched his son's face contort.

"But…" His nine year old brain was still trying to reason this out. "Can't we just tell them I don't want to?"

"I did tell them that. I told them I did not want you to go either and I tried to explain that you had a lot of plans this summer and that you would be very upset to miss out on all the opportunities," Joji explained as his son's eyes widened with horror.

"Wait, _what?_ What will I miss? Not camp, right dad?" Tetsurou asked in disbelief as Joji simply shook his head yes. "WHAT? No! No, no, no I can't miss science camp. You _promised_ I would get to do it this year!"

Thank you guilt for the predictable and horrendous stomach pain.

"I know I did, but there isn't anything I can do Tetsurou. I already tried to get you out of it, but they wouldn't budge."

His son looked upset, but he wasn't crying. Maybe that 15% probability would happen after all...

"That's so stupid. I don't want to go…" The little bed-headed kid sniffed. "...But I still have volleyball camp with Kenma, right dad?"

Joji said nothing. He bit his lip and tried to breathe and not let his emotions bubble to the surface.

"Dad? Mars to dad? Do you copy, over?"

He loved this boy so much, but it was only going to kill him more if he didn't lay it out straight.

"No Tetsu-chan. No volleyball camp. No science camp. No trip to the lake this year. Unless I can reschedule that for the fall, which I may be able to do if I can get—"

It was then that his son started crying.

It began as a trembling whine that started low and then grew with intensity into a true wail as his emotions caught up with the knowledge that everything he'd been looking forward to since the beginning of that year was now suddenly and irrevocably being taken away from him. His dark innocent eyes were now welling with huge, pain-filled tears that began streaming down his quickly reddening cheeks. Small chest heaving unevenly in his PJs as it tried to breathe, hands clenched up to his pinched face as if they could defend him from any more painful and unnecessary punishments.

Joji hated himself. Plain and simple.

"Oh, kiddo, I know. I'm so sorry..." Joji said feeling like the world's worst father. He didn't think it was possible, but this was already so much worse than breaking the divorce news. These were things his son _loved_ and _cared_ about and now they were just gone. Taken away. Ripped away from him.

The distressed father laid down beside his son and reached a gentle hand around to cup the back of his head, pulling his red, bawling face into his own gray sleep tee.

“I-I-I-I duntwanna gooooo! P-p-please dad, d-don’t make meee!” Tetsurou sobbed half-coherently into his dad's chest, gripping the fabric with his small, desperate hands.

"I don't want you to go either buddy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Joji repeated feeling his own tears finally prickle to the surface. His stomach had already bottomed out leaving him with a pit of monumental guilt, loathing self-disgust, and pure unfiltered rage at the royal bitch who would do this to his kid. She was a self-absorbed monster in his eyes, and if there was no redemption for her before then there certainly wasn't ever going to be any now.

"Shhhhh, it'll be okay Tetsurou. I promise things will work out in the end."

He hoped that wasn't a lie. He wanted to believe it.

"Itsssnottokaaayyyyyyyyyyyy!" His son wailed louder and crashed into another set of heaving sobs. Snot and tears were getting all over Joji's shirt and arm, but he didn't notice. He continued to hold his child close, running a large hand over his back to soothe him even though that was probably beyond possible at this point.

"I-I dunnwannago dad," the little Kuroo murmured in the tiniest, most heartbreaking and soul-crushing voice he had ever heard.

"I know buddy. I love you. I'm so sorry," Joji said softly into his son's hair as he planted a sincere and sorrowful kiss there.

Tetsurou Kuroo didn't stop crying for a very long time. His dad also cried, but did so silently in order to give his son space to grieve. It was his summer, his plans, his friend, his life that was getting thrown to the wolves.

It wasn't fair or right or just, but it was reality and they had to deal with it.

As for Joji, he had to prepare him to handle the worst in such a short amount of time it was panic-inducing. But he would keep his shit together for his son. He had to. He would do anything for this boy, even if it meant peeling back the layers of his innocence in order for him to be able to protect himself while he was away. Joji would give him a cell phone and teach him how to use it. He would reiterate what drugs and alcohol were and vehemently forbid him from trying any. He would go through every possible, foreseeable scenario and try to make sure his son had the tools and smarts to handle them.

But for now, he just held him like he had so many nights before. When he was a baby who needed feeding and then wanted to stay awake and play afterwards. When he was two and he just wanted to be close because dad was warm and comforting. When he was four and he had nightmares so he'd cry in his room until he came to snuggle him. When they'd moved into their first new post-divorce apartment and they only had enough energy to pull Joji's futon inside and crash curled up together like a papa cat and his little kitten boy.

Joji Kuroo treasured those moments. Later in his life, he would come to treasure this one too because his son would recall it as a time when his dad was really there for him. It may have been one of the most-emotionally devastating moments of his childhood, but Tetsurou never forgot the look of pure torment on his father's face, the guilt in his eyes, and the softness of his body wrapped protectively around him. It made Joji feel like less of a failure, but that feeling didn't come until many, many years later.

He couldn't have known that at that very same moment in time as his son laid devastated and sobbing beside him in that tiny twin bed, a woman with long dark hair stood on the balcony outside of her shoddy one bedroom apartment somewhere south of Tokyo. Smoking and smirking into the parking lot below while a drug deal went down across the block and her neighbors started streaming at each other again.

The nicotine tasted like victory this week. Victory, revenge, and something else she couldn't put her glossy finger on. Oh, well. It didn't matter. She had fooled those suckers again and maybe this time she could get a little more out of the deal. Who knows? She didn't even expect this shot in the dark to work.

She breathed out a long stream of smoke and flicked the ashes off the railing.

So her son was coming to visit. Finally. It had been almost two years since she'd last seen him, which wasn't her fault if you asked her about it. Her ex was stingy with him and kept him far away from his mother. What kind of person would do that? Every boy deserved to know his mom, right? Of course. That shouldn't even be a question it was so stupid.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

Nyoko flicked her cigarette off the balcony and turned to head back inside the dingy, low-lit apartment.

This week she had won the battle, now she just needed to win the war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, that one hurt. Did it for you? There's no upside to this yet, but I promise there is a happy ending later on!
> 
> So what did you think? How is Kuroo going to survive this? Why does everything hurt so much more when you're a kid? What about volleyball camp with Kenma?!
> 
> Stay tuned to find out folks!


	3. Bullies Suck Eggs

When Tetsurou Kuroo opened his eyes he could feel that they were still swollen from the night before. 

Somehow he also had a headache, which didn’t make any sense because sleep was supposed to heal your body. That’s what his dad said anyway, but he didn’t feel healed at all. He felt sad and devastated and numb all at the same time. It felt like the conversation they’d had at bedtime had just been a nightmare. There was no way something that crazy and stupid could ever happen to a regular kid like him. But his dad had been dead serious about going away to his mom’s and missing all the things he had planned in his very short summer break. 

The still red-eyed and bed-headed nine year old rolled over and fidgeted away from the tall, warm body of his sleeping father beside him. He hadn’t realized his dad didn’t leave him after the talk. The equally jet black, bed-headed science professor was softly snoring in his sleep tee and gym shorts while drooling a little on a wrinkled bulbasaur next to his pillow. Tetsurou wanted to pinch his nose to see if he’d wake up, but then he thought better of it. 

Instead, the volley-kid wiggled his way out from under his dad’s lanky arm and crawled down and off the bottom of his Pokemon-themed twin bed. He couldn’t look at his dad right now. The gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal was so overwhelming that he just needed to be anywhere but here. The rational part of his science-loving, logical brain knew his dad didn’t want him to go either, but that was very easily eaten up by the irrational and emotionally immature part of him that couldn’t help feeling like he was getting majorly screwed here.

Was screwed on the bad word list? He couldn’t remember and he was currently in a 43-day sticker streak for good behavior so he wasn’t about to chance saying it in front of his dad or grandparents or anyone else until he was certain it didn’t count. He vaguely wondered what would happen to his streak now that he wasn’t going to be home to prove that he didn’t have a potty mouth.

Tetsurou felt like a zombie walking to the kitchen in his solar system pajama tank and shorts that appeared far shorter than they were just because he was tall for his age. His bandaged knuckles gripped the fridge, which he stared blankly inside of hoping food would just make itself if he stood there long enough. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. The cool air was nice though. Summer mornings were muggy and warm even in the house. AC was a luxury for their bedrooms and only when they “really” needed it according to his dad.

Shutting the refrigerator door Tetsurou’s volley-bruised legs padded barefoot down the wooden planks of the hallway to the genkan where he solemnly slipped on a pair of bright red flip flops. He then proceeded to walk out the front door, through the short distance of their front garden, down the sidewalk, into the Kozumes’ yard, and right on through _their_ front door. There was a short pause to take his shoes off at their genkan before he made his way through the little foyer and up the hallway steps to the second floor landing.

The Kozume house was quiet, save for the sound of brewing coffee in the kitchen. Kuroo didn’t even notice Kenma’s mom Miki sitting in the connected living room as he slowly trudged up to her son’s room. She stared over her steaming mug at him with golden knowing eyes and then went back to the online trivia game on her laptop.

The bedroom door closed gently behind him and little Kuroo slumped over to his friend’s bed—unceremoniously collapsing face first onto the foot of it as Kenma’s eyes flickered open.

“...What’re you doing?” The younger boy asked groggily, shifting in his sheets so that he could stare down at the mess who had face-planted into his Zelda comforter. A sword graphic seemed to be piercing him through at this angle.

“My life is ruined,” Kuroo stated blandly and muffled into the covers. He didn’t move. Kenma tapped him with his blanketed foot.

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can’t go to camp with you.”

Kenma frowned deeply at this and squinted his golden eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because I have to go stay with my mom…”

“You have a mom?”

At this, the nine year old budding-scientist tilted his head to the side and glared at the little gamer who was still nicely snuggled under the protection of a fountain fairy and a heart container. 

“Of course I do. She just lives far away,” Tetsurou explained evenly, dropping his face back into the bed.

“How far?” Kenma pressed. 

Kuroo and him had a very busy schedule of things they needed to do on this break, which included but was not limited to practicing for volleyball camp, going to volleyball camp, playing video games, watching movies and volleyball matches from the couch fort he knew his mom would let them make, catching newts (but not beetles) down by the creek at the far end of the neighborhood, riding their bikes to the konbini that was halfway to school for popsicles, playing more video games, and going swimming at the community pool when his mom could take them. If Kuroo was too far away that could complicate things. 

They also had a mountain of homework to do, but just like all the other kids at school they’d wait until the last two days of break and then beg their parents (i.e.: Joji Kuroo) to help them get it done.

“How far? I dunno. Really far. Maybe that’s why I never see her,” the lanky volley-kid turned to lay on his side facing his friend. He was biting the inside of his cheek and to Kenma it looked like he’d been crying, which he’d never seen Kuroo do. Kuroo was always the one comforting him when he fell down, got picked on, or took a ball to the face like yesterday.

“Do you miss her?” The setter-in-training asked as he poked one arm up above the covers and tilted his head on the pillow. His chin length black hair was messy, but nowhere near as bad as Kuroo’s.

“No. I haven’t seen her in forever and we don’t need her,” he said bitterly. He bit his lip harder and glared at the classic green Link who was stabbing him from below. “My parents got divorced. That’s why we moved here…”

“What’s divorced?” Kenma asked, scrunching up his nose. It sounded like another one of his friend’s silly science words. Like it related to gravity or mass or any of the other things Kuroo tried to explain to him about space and earth and stuff.

“When your mom and dad don’t love each other anymore and you have to move away.”

“Oh…”

Kenma couldn’t imagine that. His dad was gone for work a lot, but he always came home and kissed and hugged his mom. It was sort of gross, but then his dad would often grab him up too and he’d be stuck between his two uncontrollable parents who would drown him in an embarrassing amount of kisses.

“So now I have to go spend break with her. I haven’t even seen her since I was little…” Tetsurou said worriedly as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars speckled around the ceiling. He wished he could stay home so that he could have a sleepover to show Kenma the real stars through his telescope.

“Why though?” Kenma asked, sitting up and folding his legs. His PJs featured a pattern of little doodle cats saying funny deadpan things, which his mom had immediately latched onto when she found it because the cats “sounded just like him” and she found that hilarious. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you have to go?” The eight year old asked sincerely. He felt bad for his friend. It wasn't an exaggeration to say Kuroo had done nothing but talk about volleyball camp for the past three months. They had been training after school for it during that time and because it was their first week of summer break they had gone at it for longer, but Kenma had started to get tired so they stopped for a few days. Plus, he got that new Zelda game so it was harder to care whether or not they were ready to start Coach Nekomata’s youth camp in a few weeks even if Kuroo didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the Nekoma high school team volunteers.

“I dunno. Because my dad said so.”

“Your dad is making you?” 

“The court is making me.”

“Who’s the Court?”

“It’s not _the_ Court, it’s _the_ court,” Tetsurou explained non-helpfully, balling his fists up to his face and rubbing his sore eyes. The details of the arrangement were flooding back to him. His heart ached in his scrawny chest below the universe tank and soon he wouldn’t even be able to fill the empty void with volleyball or Kenma.

The little gamer stared silently for a few moments. He didn’t understand what _the_ court meant, but he had already asked a lot of questions and his friend looked like he was getting more upset, which he didn’t want at all.

A soft knock startled both of them as Kenma’s mom opened the door.

“Oh! Hello Tetsurou-chan,” she said kindly in faux-surprise. So far she had resisted switching to “kun,” but Tetsurou didn’t mind so much as long as they weren’t at school or anywhere embarrassing. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company this morning?”

Kuroo reluctantly smiled. 

“I just needed to talk to Kenma. He’s a good listener,” the rooster-headed kid explained matter-of-factly.

“Ah, that he is,” Miki smiled warmly as she held her coffee cup in one hand and leaned against the door frame. “Are you boys hungry? I can make pancakes if you want.”

“Pancakes!” Both boys cheered in unison, which made her feel slightly relieved. She didn’t know if she’d come upstairs to an emotional train wreck or not. Tetsurou had only just recently started breaking and entering, but she actually found it quite adorable that her son had found someone who so casually loved his company enough to barge in unannounced on good, bad, and ugly days. (And really, he never actually “broke” anything when he entered, although he did get stuck climbing their fence once to come in the unlocked back door so Miki just started leaving the front open when she was home just in case.)

Twenty minutes later, the kids were happily eating their breakfast of mini pancakes, sticky egg rice, and freshly cut watermelon cubes.

In the house next door Joji Kuroo woke startled from a nightmare he couldn’t remember. He was still in his son’s tiny bed when he stiffly stretched his back, which popped in all the worst ways. The pit of guilt and self-loathing was still there as he got up to answer the house phone which was annoyingly ringing for the sixth or seventh time.

When he finally got to the phone it stopped altogether. He stared at it numbly with bloodshot dark eyes until it rang again a moment later.

“...Hello?”

His voice sounded awful. He should have drank something or cleared his throat first.

 _“Jo-san! Good morning!”_ He heard the bright voice of his neighbor boom out of the receiver, which he held slightly away from his ear. 

“What’s up Miki?” The groggy father asked as he ran his worn fingers through his crazed black hair. 

_“Your son is currently having a breakfast date with my son,”_ she explained cheerfully as the clinking of plates and chopsticks and little voices could be heard in the background. _“You’re more than welcome to come over and join us.”_

Kuroo senior let his pounding head bump into the kitchen wall in front of him.

“He came over uninvited again, didn’t he?”

 _“It’s fine. Really. He seemed like he needed a friend,”_ the Kozume woman mused lightly. 

“It’s not fine, it’s so rude. I’m sorry Miki-san he’s just—”

_“He’s upset. I know. So are you. So come eat pancakes with us, will you?”_

Joji considered this. Did he want food cooked by someone else? Yes. Did he want to make sure his son was okay? Yes. Would going over help his kid right now? No. No, it would not. Tetsurou was enjoying the last few bits of his freedom before he got shipped off to that devil woman and Joji Kuroo would be damned if he was going to take that away from him too.

“I appreciate the offer, but I need to get things ready for Tetsurou. Thank you for having him, but please send him home when he’s finished. He shouldn’t be burdening you with—”

 _“JOJI, did you NOT hear me when I said it’s fine?”_ The raven haired woman snipped back at him. _“Just do what you gotta do today, okay? I’ll keep my eyes on him.”_

“You’re too good of a neighbor, you know that?” He said, trying not to smile while shaking his head. She sure was headstrong when she wanted to be.

_“I’d like to think we’re friends Jo. That’s what friends do.”_

With that, Miki hung up. Joji listened to the dead ringtone on the line and wondered how he and his son had been so fortunate to move in next door to the Kozumes and their ever-growing patience for Kuroo-level insanity.

—

Joji didn’t know what to expect, but he certainly wasn’t prepared for his son to ice him the entire hour driving south of Tokyo to his mom’s place.

As much as it hurt to break the news to Tetsurou that he had to cancel all his summer plans to go stay at essentially what was a stranger’s house, he hadn’t prepared himself enough to endure all of the heartache that came after. Buying the flip phone, putting in the contact numbers, writing in his kid’s notebook, going over how to call 911, explaining what a possible case of ODing looked like but doing it in discrete child-friendly terms, advising him to drink or eat pre-packaged foods if at all possible (something they rarely ever did at home, but that would be safer under his ex-wife’s roof), and explaining how if something felt wrong he always had the right to say to no or to call him immediately for backup—all of this required a level of herculean strength to not give up and just see how bad the consequences of directly disobeying a court order could be. 

Clearly, his lawyer advised against this, but Hamano-san was still trying to negotiate a shorter time for Tetsurou who had never been away from his dad longer than a few days. It was not unlike negotiating a prison sentence.

The distressed father glanced up at the rearview mirror and felt another pang of horrible, nauseating guilt pierce his gut. 

Tetsurou was biting his lip and staring angrily out the window as two silent tears rolled down either cheek, his volleyball clutched tightly in his lap. Joji wanted to throw up. This was all so wrong and his child didn’t deserve one goddamn minute of this, but that didn’t matter for some bizarre, heartless reason.

“Tetsurou,” Joji cleared his throat and blinked back his own tears. 

He couldn’t lose it now. His son didn’t deserve that. 

“Tetsurou I want you to know that dad’s doing his best to see if he can get you home early, okay? It might not be the full three weeks if we can get them to see reason.”

He knew the court didn’t take bribes or anything, but he _did_ tell his lawyer to try _everything_ he possibly could to “convince” them.

The little roosterhead in the backseat said nothing, but his face crumpled even more and another quiet tear fell slowly down his face. 

“And you can call me anytime, okay?” He repeated even though he had said this multiple times the day prior and several more that morning as they packed the last of his things and loaded them into the car. “I’ll pick up, and if I can’t pick up you can call baba or even Miki-san, both of their numbers are in your phone.”

“I _know_ ,” Tetsurou said bitterly, sniffing a little. He wiped his face with the palm of his hand roughly and resumed his glare out the window.

Joji silently prayed he wouldn’t stay mad enough to _not_ call him if something went wrong. 

As they got closer and closer to the address he was provided through the lawyer, Joji Kuroo’s nerves were being blasted with more alarm bells. The area they were entering felt rundown and old and not the sort of place where he assumed anyone would expect to find children. There were people out loitering on corners even in broad daylight with seemingly nothing to do, and they weren’t at bus stops either which would have been understandable. Many of them were not dressed like they were particularly productive members of society and sadly this wasn’t a big surprise to him because these were the sorts of people Nyoko used to surround herself with. Guess she had finally gone deep enough to live among them, or maybe she was one.

When they pulled into the dingy apartment complex twenty minutes later Joji felt all the hairs on the back of his neck electrify. 

This was it. He was going to see her after all this time and his poor son was going to have to actually _live_ with her without a responsible adult nearby or in the household. It was one of his worst nightmares come true. As he lugged the small child’s backpack and duffel bag onto his shoulders he was once again wishing he had had the balls to just disobey the law in order to protect his kid. 

But he didn’t, and it was too late.

The father and son slowly walked across the grass-invested asphalt lot past rusted and beaten up cars that in all likelihood were not street legal and probably had other less than legal things tucked away beneath their seams. 

Tetsurou held on tight to his new Mikasa VUL-500. His shoulders hunched slightly inward out of nervousness in his gray “Cool Cat” typographic tank top. It was as if that ball were his only lifeline. Like a magic item that would somehow protect him from all the unfamiliarity and strangeness of this place.

They climbed the outdoor steps up to the second floor apartments and walked down the open air hallway until they found it. Apt. 217. The place that held the past that Joji had fought so hard to get away from and so long to forget. He didn’t know it then, but nothing in his life would ever compare to the pain he felt having to leave his son, his precious only child, back in the clutches of the insane woman who had nearly destroyed them all.

Which is why Tetsurou actually ended up being the one to knock. He didn’t say anything to his dad, but he assumed since they were standing here gawking at _this_ door it was probably the one that his mother lived in.

There was a shuffle inside the apartment and then the sound of multiple deadbolts and locks being undone before a tall woman with long waves of messy black hair opened the door and smiled with that familiar wickedness that made Joji’s stomach bottom out.

“Jo-kun!” She said cheerily as if he were a cherished old friend and not a bitter ex-husband. “And Tetsu-chan! You made it! I’m so happy you came to see me!” The woman exclaimed in a high-pitched, shrill tone as she dropped to Tetsurou’s level and crushed him in an unexpected hug.

Little Kuroo was startled at the sudden over-familiarity from his mother who he hadn’t seen in over two years, but his stressed out nine year old body melted at the comfort. A hug was fine, right? He could hug her back, couldn’t he? Tetsurou glanced up nervously at his dad who was equally stunned. 

So he patted his mother’s back awkwardly and shifted the volleyball to his side. After a few more weird moments of being held onto, she let go and straightened up.

“You can set those down inside Joji. Tetsurou, come on, let me show you to your new home,” she trilled, snatching the little boy’s hand and jerking him into the miniature genkan space. 

Joji hated her for distorting the truth. New fucking home his ass.

“Nyoko,” the science professor said stiffly as he set his son’s bags down inside beyond the shoe area. “Tetsurou isn’t here because he wants to be. You literally made him cancel every camp, every trip, and every plan he had with friends for this break because of your selfish—”

“Tetsu-chan, did you hear that?” Nyoko said in a curious tone as she pressed a glossy fingertip into her cheek.

“Hear what?” The bed-headed kid asked as he stood in the tiny one bedroom apartment that smelled heavily of cigarettes, dirty dishes, and other things that he had never smelled before.

Joji _had_ in fact smelled some of these stenches during his years with his ex-wife and he couldn’t believe they didn’t even conduct a fucking house visit before they ordered his son to live here. Surely she’d have gotten in trouble for having _those_ sorts of things around, let alone received permission to have a _child_ living here.

“The sound of your daddy leaving,” the devil woman said cooly as she turned and glared piercing daggers back at her ex. 

There it was. The look he’d fully expected when she first opened the door.

“Nyoko, I’m not leaving until we go over a few things.”

“Jo-kun, there’s nothing to go over. I have control of Tetsurou for these few measly weeks and you don’t get to have a goddamn say in how I do it,” she spat venomously, which took her son by surprise. He didn’t have too many memories of fights between his parents because Joji had intentionally been sure to do them at night or out of his presence entirely.

“That’s the first thing,” Kuroo senior boomed, making his son flinch at the higher volume as he pointed his finger at her. “Do NOT swear in front of him. He is a CHILD Nyoko, not a lacky or a club friend or your pet. He’s a _person_ , an impressionable _person,_ who doesn’t need to hear that kind of language from anyone.”

Tetsurou was stared wide-eyed between the two, still holding onto the protection his volleyball seemingly offered him. 

Nyoko’s dark eyes squinted and she turned to her son.

“Tetsu-chan has your daddy ever cursed in front of you?” She asked in a sickly sweet, faux-innocent tone.

The little boy’s eyes got even wider. He didn’t expect either of them to bring _him_ into the middle of their conversation.

“Uhhh, well…”

“Tetsurou, you don’t have to answer that,” his father said hastily. “Nyoko, _don’t_ put him on the spot. He doesn’t want to play your mind games. Now where is he going to sleep?” Joji tried to change the subject.

“No! I want to hear his answer. Has daddy ever said bad words in front of you, honey?” She tried again, this time touching his shoulder and digging her long manicured nails into his back a bit.

“NYOKO. You don’t get to treat him like—”

“Well, he has, but only sometimes,” the nine year old admitted honestly, much to Joji’s mortal embarrassment and Nyoko’s supremely smug satisfaction.

“There! You see? You’re not so high and mighty there Jo-kun. You’re just as bad as I am no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise,” his ex-wife sing-songed devilishly, flipping her long hair back in triumphant self-righteousness.

The rooster-headed kid felt very confused at this interaction. Didn’t all adults curse _sometimes?_ Usually when they did they would apologize to him or try to reason out why it was bad and why he shouldn’t do it, but his mom wasn’t doing any of that...

Across the room near the front door, it took everything in Joji’s body not to throttle his ex right then and there. He had never, _ever_ been physically abusive to her (or anyone for that matter), but the rage he felt seething through his blood was overwhelmingly telling him to go for it.

“Where will he be sleeping Nyoko?” He ground out through clenched teeth. There was a checklist and he was going to go through it even if he had to stay here all night.

“What’s it to you?” She shot back at him. “He’s got a roof over his head, doesn’t he?”

“Some of us have higher standards than that,” Joji spat as he kicked off his shoes and let himself into the half kitchen, half living room. There were two doors beyond this, presumably her room and a bathroom.

“What the hell Jo?! Get OUT! We don’t need you snooping around here like you’re some kind of low-budget detective from a shitty indie film.”

Kuroo senior ignored her as he opened the bathroom door, closed it quickly, then stormed into the bedroom. He came out a moment later and glared poisonously at her from behind the dark, crazed bedhead that partially shielded his eyes. To his credit, he was fairly tall and pretty intimidating even if he was dressed in socks, dress slacks, and a pressed button up as if he were going to work, an important conference, or a court hearing.

“There’s no _bed_ for him, Nyoko. You don’t even have a _futon_ laid out?” The rage was barely containable in his voice. Tetsurou didn’t think he had ever seen his father so infuriated.

“Oh my _god,_ you need to get off my case Captain Asshat. There’s isn’t one _yet_ , but there _will_ be,” she spat, throwing her hands on her hips and seeming to stand up straighter herself. She was probably the tallest woman Tetsurou had actually ever met now that he really looked at her. 

Also, asshat? That was new.

At this, the fuming father pulled a small notebook and pen from his shirt pocket and began to scrawl something down.

“What the hell are you doing?” Nyoko asked suspiciously, storming right on up to him like she was going to take the notes from his hands, which she did in fact try to do but he jerked it away in time.

“I’m documenting all of this for the court so that they can once again see how unfit you are to be a parent,” Joji Kuroo seethed disdainfully as he continued to write furiously.

“Get the _fuck_ out of my house!” She yelled in his face with all the bursting vitriol she had inside of her. This made her son flinch as he hadn't expected or ever heard anyone speak at that volume inside.

It was then that Tetsurou watched in complete and utter horror as his mother grabbed a fistful of his dad’s shirt and shoved him towards the door.

“Right now! Get out! Before I call my lawyer! I’ll tell them you refused to leave and that you threatened me!”

The nine year old was frozen in place. Fear pumping up inside of him as he watched the woman he barely knew repeatedly shove and smack and scream at his dad as he stumbled towards the door. 

“Tetsurou! Daddy loves you, I’m so sorry buddy," Joji managed to yell above her insults and expletives. "I’ll be back as soon as we get this straightened out, you won’t have to be here for long—”

 _“Fuck_ you Joji! He’s staying as long as they granted me, you can’t—”

“You know what to do if you have any trouble!” His father yelled as the crazy woman beat him back to the genkan with a surprising amount of strength.

It was then that he realized his dad was really leaving.

“I love you! See you soon—”

 _“Goodbye,”_ Nyoko said viciously as she threw her ex-husband’s shoes out the door and clear off the balcony. 

A second later the door slammed shut and the fuming woman breathed heavily as she began to lock up all the deadbolts once more.

It hit him like a slow motion train wreck. He could see it coming, but could do nothing to stop it. 

His dad was gone. Really gone. 

He hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye or tell him he was sorry for not talking to him in the car or even give him a hug, but now he was GONE and he wouldn’t be back until break was almost over.

Tetsurou Kuroo sniffed and then very quickly melted into uncontrollable sobs at the loss of the one person on this planet at this time in his young life who made him feel safe and protected and happy, and he felt like it was all his fault.

His mother rounded on him.

“Tetsu-chan? You shouldn’t be upset, he’s gone now.”

This was precisely why he _was_ upset, but he couldn’t very well tell her this because he was standing alone clutching his volleyball while hyperventilating and choking on his own fluids.

 _“Tetsurou,”_ he heard his mother say sternly.

This did in fact get him to stop for a moment just from the pure shock of such a harsh tone. He peered up at her with tears streaming down his flushed red face as he sucked in shaky, unstable breaths.

“You need to cut it out,” Nyoko said evenly as she padded over to the kitchen and tapped out a cigarette from the pack on the counter.

“W-what?” Little Kuroo asked in true astonishment. Cut it _out?_ He was crying, not jumping up and down on the sofa. “Cut it out” didn’t work in this situation...

“Stop being a baby and suck it up,” she stated dryly with the rolled nicotine perched between her red lips as she flicked the lighter a few times to get a spark.

“B-but… my dad…” The volley-kid tried to form his thoughts into words, but he was confused and overwhelmed and terrified by what had just happened.

"He's not here anymore so you need to get used to it,” she inhaled the contents of the sin stick and then blew the smoke out in his direction. “And boys don't cry, Tetsurou. Honestly, what is your father teaching you…"

_...What?_

Boys don’t cry?

That was literally the _opposite_ of what his dad had told him. Repeatedly. Sometimes he got annoyed when his dad said things multiple times, but this was one topic that had stuck because of it.

The bed-headed kid gathered as much courage as he could and held his ball even tighter against his chest.

"Y-yea, they do! It means you’re human," Tetsurou parroted his father's words as strongly as he could. He sniffed a little, but the conviction was there.

Nyoko stared at him with dark, deadened, and half-lidded eyes. Then, surprisingly, she sauntered over to him and crouched down to his level as she sucked in another breath of the cigarette. 

A second later, she opened her mouth which was full of smoke and slowly, ever so slowly, blew the putrid-smelling cloud out into his face.

"It _means_ you're a baby. _Don't_ be a baby Tetsurou."

—

Little Kuroo did not actually receive a futon to sleep on that night. Instead, he was assigned to the old, uncomfortable couch that smelled like ash, sweat, and butt. He wouldn’t have even gotten a sheet to lay down on top of it if he hadn’t asked for one himself. 

It was hard “sucking it up.” Tetsurou had never heard that phrase come out of his dad’s mouth, but apparently it meant “get over it quickly.” He was still shocked as he replayed the events of that afternoon over and over in his mind as he laid in the dark apartment late that night. 

His mom was not very good at tucking him in. She told him to go get himself a blanket out of the bathroom closet and had gotten annoyed when he asked about the sheets to lay down first. This is when he learned that under no circumstances was he to _ever_ go in her room. It was private and he was not allowed to. Period. 

So she had returned from her room with a sheet that was wrinkled, but at least kind of smelled cleaner than the butt couch. It was weird because they didn’t have dinner even though he had arrived shortly before the time he normally would have eaten at home. 

But what shocked him more than anything, was just before bedtime when she had changed into a skimpy maroon dress and struggled to get on some strappy, black kitten heels at the door.

“Where are you going?” Tetsurou had asked her innocently. He had still been upset about everything, but he had stopped crying hours before when she made it clear that it wouldn’t be tolerated.

“Out,” she answered simply, flicking her hair back. “Don’t open the door to anyone, you hear me? I’ll be back later. Don’t go in my room and don’t leave the house.”

He felt an uneasiness drop in his stomach.

“You’re leaving me alone?” He asked as he failed to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

Nyoko glanced up when she stood, hauled her huge purse onto her shoulder, and checked her lipstick in a compact mirror.

“Yah. Do you have a problem with that?” His mother asked him with sarcasm dripping off her voice.

He didn’t understand the tone she was taking with him.

“Uh… I guess not?” 

The nine year old questioned his own judgement here. Sometimes his dad or grandparents had left the house, but they always made sure Miki-san or some neighbor was around and could keep an eye out for him if he had any trouble. He’d never just been straight up left _alone-alone._

“Good. Don’t break anything,” she added to her list of don’ts as she slammed the door behind her without another word.

It was one of the oddest exchanges Tetsurou had ever had in his life, and he had the horrible sinking feeling that more of those were to come. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. Was that a lot to process? Wanted to balance out the crappy situation with some sweet Kuroken kiddo friendship, so hopefully that worked. 
> 
> So what'd you think? How bad can things really get for Tetsurou? What's Kenma going to do without him this summer? Why can't these grown-ups get their shit together? 
> 
> Anyway, there is some sunlight at the end of the road, so stay tuned!


	4. Monsters Are Real

The very next morning it became abundantly clear to Tetsurou why his dad had been losing his coconuts over this whole court-ordered summer break situation. 

As it turned out, his mom was pretty weird. 

And like… not in a good way. 

Not like his dad who told the same set of corny science jokes over and over again because he knew it would eventually get Tetsurou to break into a toothy smile. Not like Kenma either, who was weird, but _cool_ _weird_ because he was so particular about things and funny and _different_ than anyone else he’d ever met. Kenma could look you dead in the eye and tell a joke, but you wouldn’t realize it until a moment later because he said it so seriously with a straight face. He made Tetsurou laugh harder and uglier than anyone else he knew.

But this woman was just… _weird_ -weird. 

His mother had finally emerged from her bedroom close to noon the next morning wearing sleep shorts that revealed so much of her long, red-marked legs in addition to a strappy tank that barely held her in. Tetsurou couldn’t ever remember seeing that much boobage in his life, not even at the local public swim complex where Miki-san had taken him and Kenma before and promised to take them again that summer. 

He tried not to stare at his mom, shifting uncomfortably on the old musty couch that he had made his nest of blankets and sheets on. It had been hard to sleep last night because he kept hearing strange, angry sounds coming from the thin walls of the adjacent apartments, dogs barking somewhere outside, and at one point after he’d finally gotten to sleep a car alarm went off and startled him awake again.

Truthfully, since he couldn’t sleep he decided to just get up and see if he could find anything to eat. When the sun was just starting to bring light in through the broken and bent living room blinds he cautiously poked his little frazzled bedhead around the cabinets and corners of the kitchen. 

The pantry game around here was weak to say the least. 

The only thing that seemed kind of okay was some old flaky cereal that he ate dry because the milk in the fridge smelled _real_ gross. Tetsurou would bet his entire summer’s allowance on the fact that the bacteria in the carton was having a blast making lactic acid right now—souring it and making it smell like that. He only knew this fun fact because even when food went bad at home, his dad tried to teach him the _why_ behind it. And if his dad didn’t quite know why himself, then the two of them would make it their mission to find out. The kitchen was always full of experiments and wonder to him, but _this_ kitchen seemed like it was just for formalities. There was even a layer of dust on the counter like it hadn’t been used in ages...

“Tetsu-chan, you can feed yourself right?” His mother had asked, yawning as she padded barefoot towards the bathroom raking her fingers lazily through her long black hair. Her nails were a deep blood red. 

“Uh, well yea, I—I feed myself,” Tetsurou stammered, trying to make sense of her question. Did she think he was a baby or something? Of course he fed himself... 

“I ate some of the cereal from the pantry already…” He added, hoping that was okay but not being entirely sure of the rules here verses at home. The fact that he’d been yelled at the night before just for crying a little had been an alarming culture shock between his parents’ places.

“Oh! Good, good. That’s one less thing I’ll have to worry about then,” she had said, seemingly more to herself, as she disappeared into the bathroom. He could hear the screech of a shower handle and water spray a moment later.

And apparently that was all she felt she needed to say to him because when she came out of the bathroom a half an hour later with damp hair and just a towel wrapped around her body, she immediately disappeared into her off-limits bedroom again. 

Tetsurou wasn’t sure if they’d be doing something together today or what so he stretched out on the couch and tried to get back to reading about the earth’s rotation and its place within the solar system. His stripey-socked feet kicked lightly in the air as he casually flipped through the pages. The illustrations were cool and a lot of them had little alien characters hiding somewhere on the spreads so those were fun to find, but after a bit his brain just wasn’t all there to focus very hard on the word parts.

So the nine year old yawned and wiped an eye with his palm, feeling the sleep he didn’t get last night come back to bite him in the butt. As much as he tried to keep his little roosterhead up and engaged in the book, it kept bobbing down until it finally sank into Mars and drifted him away from that strange apartment.

The little volley-kid hadn’t known what his mom meant that morning by her strange food question, but quickly realized they were _not_ on the same page a few hours later after he’d woken back up and noticed that she was about to leave the apartment. Again.

“You’re leaving?” Kuroo asked uncertainly as she slipped on her shoes at the tiny genkan. “Are we… aren’t we going to have lunch or something though?” 

So far they hadn’t eaten together at all. At home, he always ate with his dad, and if his pop wasn’t home then his jiji and baba usually came over and cooked or he just bounced to Kenma’s. Miki-san honestly didn’t care if he crashed their meals. Heck, it wasn’t even uncommon for her to pop her head up halfway over the fence to ask if he was joining them for dinner. Like it was always just an obvious open invitation to him.

And sometimes (though it was _super_ secret because he knew his dad would WIG OUT otherwise) Tetsurou would accept her offer even if he HAD already eaten because it was fun to hang out with her and Kenma. Occasionally Kenma’s dad too if he wasn’t working late like usual. Little Kuroo wouldn’t eat a _lot_ or anything, but he enjoyed sharing the adventures Kenma and him had out and about in the neighborhood, practicing volleyball, playing games, or just on their way home from school in general. It didn’t seem like Kenma told his mom much of it himself, so Miki-san always listened with golden bright-eyed attention. Stopping him every so often to ask relevant questions or to get Kenma’s perspective. His heart felt warm on those nights, especially if he was able to get Kenma excited enough to talk about something too (usually games, but sometimes volleyball).

 _“What?”_ Kuroo’s mom snapped at his joint lunch question with a strongly furrowed brow as she prepared her purse and things at the door. She barely even looked at him. “I thought you said you can feed yourself earlier?”

“Oh.. uhm. Yea? But… Did.. did you mean cook?” The nine year old tried to get clarification, scratching the back of his messy black hair as his nose and partially-toothless mouth scrunched up a bit confused.

“Obviously,” Nyoko scoffed as she grabbed her keys and looked back at him from the door. “Or were you lying to me? Don’t lie to me, Tetsurou. I can tell if you’re lying.”

Kuroo’s dark innocent eyes widened at the accusation.

“NO! No, I just—I can cook. I-I know how to, yea,” Tetsurou reassured her hesitantly. He didn’t understand why she jumped to _that_ conclusion so quickly or why she sounded so irritated with him for just asking a simple question. Kuroos in general asked _questions,_ that was kinda their thing…

“Great. I’ll be back in a bit then.”

A small jolt of panic rose in his chest watching her clutch the door handle because he knew how to cook in _theory_ , but didn’t know if that actually counted..? He really _should_ be able to do it with how much he’d watched and helped his dad, but their kitchen at home also had a ton more ingredients and actual things TO make in it...

“Don’t burn the place down if you use the stove,” the long dark haired woman seemed to mock him with a sly grin before she slammed the door shut and was gone.

Tetsurou’s mom was perhaps the strangest person he’d ever met. She was blunt, but not good blunt (like Kenma). And she didn’t seem to care at all that she kept leaving him without supervision or telling him where she was going or why or when she would actually be back...

On top of which…

He was allowed to use the _stove?_ What-what now? 

His dad had _never_ let him use the stove by himself before. Sure he’d stirred eggs and stuff when it was already _on,_ but he didn’t do any of the prep work that his pop normally took care of to get it to temperature or turn it all off and stuff...

His stomach growled.

Mmm. Eggs. Oh, he could really go for some eggs right now. And rice...

Maybe he _could_ make some egg fried rice or something? There had to be a rice cooker here somewhere, right? He hadn’t seen one, but his stomach felt like it was starting to eat itself and he was beginning to think he had something to prove now that his mother had practically called him a little smelly liar to his face.

So Tetsurou got to work sifting through the kitchen space once again to see if he could find anything edible to make. After another clean sweep of the inventory he determined: 1) there was no rice cooker, 2) his mom must eat out all the time because there was hardly anything here worth eating other than takeout leftovers, 3) most of the few store-bought items had already expired, and 4) using the stove was fun!

The little volley-kid swelled with pride as the microwave minute rice beeped on one side of him and the sizzling pan with the egg batter (from an only slightly-expired instant carton, not real eggs unfortunately) started to look less runny and more like the fluffy ones his dad made. Tetsurou hopped down from the makeshift stepstool he’d fashioned from an empty upside down food crate that he found in the back of one of the cabinets. Then he carefully popped the rice out into a bowl that had to be rewashed because it had gross spots on it from whatever was on there before. He hummed a bit of a theme song from an anime Kenma and he had been watching recently as he got back up to tend the progressing eggs.

All of this was going quite well if he had to say so himself.

Until there came a sudden bang at the door. 

Before a startled Tetsurou knew what was happening, he’d lost his footing on the little crate and knocked an arm into the handle of the egg pan which sent the whole thing flying onto the floor but not before it jumbled against his other arm searing a lightning quick brand into his skin before he even felt the sting.

There were keys jiggling and protesting with the deadbolt and lock. Tetsurou tried to slow the growing horror inside him. 

He frantically glanced from the now hazardous open flame dancing on the stovetop to the eggy spilled mess all over the floor, and then the shiny new mark on his arm which was _really_ stinging now and threatening to make him cry again even though he didn’t want to at all and—

His mother opened the door already looking pissed about something else before her dark eyes widened with shock at the crime scene that had become her kitchen.

The keys clattered dead to the floor.

“WHAT did you _DO,_ TETSUROU?!” 

There was no amping up. Her volume was immediately levels of super scary loud, which made him flinch as he reflexively curled in on himself.

But apparently that had been another wrong move.

His mother angrily kicked off her shoes and dropped the rest of her things. She stalked over to him stepping through the fluffy yellow mess on the linoleum floor as she grabbed his wrist and pulled it towards her. This sent a shockwave of pure unfiltered fear through him.

 _“What did you do?”_ She demanded again, rage clearly dripping in her tone as she shook his reddening arm. 

There was a bright red burn mark the size of a mini Kit-Kat on the inside of his forearm.

“It-It was an accident...” Tetsurou stammered close to tears and unable to look her directly in the eyes. His heart was madly pounding in his scrawny chest which hadn’t even had a chance to properly tan yet because he’d only had one week outside during the break so far.

“An _accident?_ Well that _accident_ could get me in _deep_ _shit_ Tetsurou! Did you ever think of _that?”_ His mother seethed with such a foreign anger that he had to close his eyes because he was _scared_ and he didn’t know what else to do.

“Answer me!” She shook his arm again forcefully, making it sting worse from the burn. 

“No… I-I didn't think of that...” The little boy managed in a timid voice that didn’t sound like his own.

“And what’s all this?” Nyoko spat as she grabbed his other wrist for comparison, turning it so that both inner forearms were side by side. The dark, scattered bruises from the past week training hard with Kenma were dotted up and down them.

“I-uhm...” Tetsurou gulped, straining to form words with his mouth which was dry and gaping. “They’re from my volleyba—”

“Get up,” she interrupted him curtly. “Go wash your arms in the bathroom.”

His mother pulled him to his feet by the wrists, which stretched his skin painfully. She muttered expletives under her breath turning off the raging flame on the stove and then beginning to clean up the mess he’d made.

Little Kuroo stood there awkwardly for a moment, staring in disbelief and trying to process it all before he sniffed and walked himself quietly to the bathroom. 

The cool water in the sink did make the skin feel better on his pan-branded arm, but it did nothing to quell the rising, heavy anxiety in his chest.

Three more weeks. 

He just had to make it three more weeks...

—

The next few days all seemed to blur together for Tetsurou. His mother had forbade him from a LOT of things, but the worst of these was that he couldn’t go outside. 

Honestly, he thought this rule was _crazy_ because it was practically the exact opposite of what was encouraged at his own house in the summer. Usually if he was _inside_ during summer break, his dad would ask if he was feeling alright because Tetsurou loved spending every possible minute he could with his volleyball either out in the backyard, over at the Kozume house, or (if Kenma went with him) down by the river or at the park. He understood the buddy system, but he didn’t understand why he couldn’t just go play in the parking lot _right_ outside the apartment. It's not like he would run off or anything...

This rule felt particularly bananas after spending so many days inside. He didn't even stay inside this much when it was freezing cold out, so the nine year old was starting to get _real_ antsy. 

He was meant to _move_ , meant to _jump,_ and meant to hit Kenma’s sets clear over their shared fence and then yell and shout with victory that they’d _done_ it. He was supposed to be improving. Supposed to be making progress on his game play with his friend so that they could go to camp together and prove to everyone that they could be _serious_ competitors once they got to join the big kids in middle school. How was he supposed to do any of this if he couldn't even practice?

As the little roosterhead wracked his brain for alternatives, he could hear his dad’s voice chastising him.

_No volleyball in the house Tetsu-chan—you know the deal. Balls outside, books inside._

Well, books could technically be read outside too, but the phrase was catchy so his dad just kept saying it. Also, he didn’t _bring_ enough books to fill up his entire break because he assumed, minimally, he’d be able to practice his solo ball bumps outside or find a neighborhood kid to make friends with or something. He wasn’t meant to be cooped up like this all the time!

These feelings were completely valid, but they were also precisely what led to Tetsurou’s rather horrible attempt at playing volleyball _inside_ the apartment. He’d gotten about five consecutive ball bumps in before he accidentally lost control of his ball knocking a table lamp clear off the couch side table. 

Thankfully, the lamp didn’t break. Thankfully, his mother wasn’t home to witness it.

However, the panic he felt as it crash landed almost in slow motion onto the floor was enough to make him hide his precious ball in the bathroom closet. 

Tetsurou loved, _loved_ his precious Mikasa VUL-500 and it sort of felt like his only friend here, but he couldn’t bear to look at it sitting still and lonely by the pile of his things on the floor anymore. It was a constant reminder of what he was missing: quiet mornings of solo bumping in the backyard, long afternoons of playing and gaming with Kenma, warm evenings after dinner when his dad tried to set for him even though he had no game sense whatsoever. It really highlighted just how much Kenma was progressing as a setter after Kuroo had suggested it to him last year, so while he obviously preferred his friend to play with, his dad was a passable enough substitute if necessary. 

Right now, as Tetsurou sat by himself in his mother’s empty apartment again, he felt particularly bad for teasing his old man about sucking at volleyball. He would give anything to be trying to hit a botched set from his dad right now. Anything to just hug him and tell him he was sorry for acting like a brat before he left. Anything to be safe at home only a floor away from his dad grading summer papers downstairs and a (literal) stone’s throw away from Kenma’s window where he belonged. Kenma would most certainly be shutting himself up in his room without him there, and Kuroo was missing the chance to interrupt him and then badger him relentlessly to come out and play. He didn’t know when they’d get to play together again and that really hurt too for some reason.

So for the second time that week, Tetsurou broke the same house rule as he buried his face into his knees and tried desperately to calm down before anyone caught the low, muffled sniffles drifting through the dreary apartment.

—

By the sixth day at his mom's place Kuroo had noticed a few things. 

1) He had mistakenly thought that he came here to spend time _with_ his mom. This was wildly incorrect. 

She slept in late each day and then was gone most of the afternoon only coming back to smoke a cigarette and change from what he presumed were her work clothes into something skimpier before she went out again at night. He had asked her what her job was, but the only reply he’d gotten was “dealing with idiots” so he left it at that.

2) When his mother did return home late at night, she smelled heavily of alcohol and other strange fragrances he couldn’t identify.

While Tetsurou’s dad didn’t drink so much at home, they had Kuroo family reunions, holidays, and get-togethers often enough for him to know what booze was and what it did to adults. His uncles were heavier drinkers at these parties, but they could usually get a beer or two into Joji after some good-natured razzing and laughter. His auntie had smiled down at him last time and made a comment that maybe one day he’ll want to drink with them too, but that would have to wait until he was old enough. The two of them had toasted with their non-alcoholic sparkling cider instead, played cards, and watched the rest of the Kuroo family get red-faced and silly drunk together. 

His mom however... 

Well, like most things she was different. Very different. 

She stumbled through the door, usually after he’d curled up in his little pile of blankets on the couch still feeling hungry after he’d scavenged for leftovers that she may or may not have brought home on any given day. Her giggling laughter was foreign to him as she bumped her way through the dark apartment. Her laugh was trilling and high and… 

Fake? Was it fair to say she sounded fake? 

3) Perhaps the reason she sounded like this was because of the equally intoxicated man who inevitably followed in after her. By the sound of it, a different one each night. Every night.

They would bang around the genkan in the dark, shushing each other and drunkenly kicking off heels, shoes, and other things that Tetsurou didn’t understand and didn’t want to. He was afraid to even open his eyes as she led her strange friends back to her room (so much for “off limits”). It was pretty weird and something she never talked about so he didn’t know if it was okay to say anything and wasn’t going to test his luck.

By comparison, Tetsurou’s dad never had any friends sleepover. 

The only people who ever slept over at their house was his grandparents before they moved out earlier that year and Kenma every once in a while when his dad was home to watch them and make dinner. Though usually Tetsurou just went over to the Kozume house. Kenma had a bigger bed they could share and he also had way cooler games to play. Miki-san would even let them build huge blanket forts in the living room where they’d eat popcorn and watch goofy PG-rated sci-fi movies together. Kenma’s mom would lay on the couch to watch with them (to cover the “P” part of the rating), the boys spread on the floor in their futons and PJs, and they all would normally fall asleep before they got to the end of the movie. It was a good tradition and Tetsurou felt like he was missing out on that too this summer. His own mom just wasn’t like Miki-san at all. Not in the slightest. She had no _chill._

By the seventh day, this fact really hit Tetsurou hard because...

Well, his mom never came home that night.

He knew this because he hadn’t been woken up by her and a strange man bumbling in at an odd hour and he had slept through the whole night for the first time since he'd gotten there. Of course he was too afraid to actually go check her room to _really_ make sure, but he was pretty darn certain she wasn’t in there.

More alarming than this was that Tetsurou realized he didn't even have a phone number to call her and see where she was or if she was okay. He felt bad for not having asked, but he just didn't think of that until now...

As the minutes turned to hours and the morning into a balmy warm afternoon Tetsurou felt even more certain she wasn't here and that he had absolutely no idea what to do about it. Truly, he'd never spent this much time alone ever in his life. It was foreign and uncomfortable and he felt more and more like a little kid for not knowing what to do about any of it.

So he just did the best he could. As usual. 

He scanned the pantry for the millionth time and tried to make things that were less than six months expired (some were past due by years). Eventually he was so bored he thought it would be a good idea to go through and throw out some of the super ancient items along with the smelly things in the fridge because they didn't seem like anything _anyone_ could actually stomach. They would make good truth or dare material for sure, but there was no one around to even play that with. (And Kenma always chose truth anyway, which was no fun at all. Last time Kuroo picked dare he ended up laughing so hard he accidentally snorted milk out of his nose.)

Unfortunately, the volley-kid's hyperactive kitchen organization made the trash can stink near as bad as a Sunday morning fish market, and while _impressively_ gross he couldn't stomach it after a few hours of trying to hold his nose and pry open a window (it didn't budge).

"Maybe…" Kuroo mumbled to himself biting his lip and eyeing the door.

Maybe she couldn't get _too_ mad if he took out the trash?

Yes, he was _supposed_ to stay inside no matter what, but wouldn't she be angry if she came home and it smelled like monkey butt in here? At home Tetsurou lugged the trash out as one of his regular house chores so it didn't seem like that big a deal. 

It would be quick. And he was helping. He could _RUN._

The thought of bounding down those steps and getting some fresh air boosted his mood enough to completely push the fear of breaking another rule aside because taking out the trash _was_ helping! He was a helpful kid after all. It made sense for him to do a chore or two while his mom was away. Maybe she'd be surprised and even thank him for taking the initiative. Maybe she'd laugh (a real laugh this time) and gently ruffle his fluffy black bedhead and say he was a good helper. Kenma's mom sometimes did that when he pulled weeds from the garden with her or returned her son after an exhausting afternoon playing outside. Apparently, she worried about him sitting around playing games too much. But if Kuroo was good at anything, it was getting Kenma off his butt and out of the house.

Needless to say, Tetsurou had _never_ been so excited to complete a house chore.

The self-satisfied, ornery little grin on his partially toothless face couldn't help spreading wider and wider as he tied his scuffed up sneakers on at the door. A moment later he heaved the large black garbage bag full of grossness over his shoulder and fiddled with all the confusing locks. He actually didn't have a key to get back _in,_ but he also didn't think it would hurt to leave it unlocked for the quick run to the dumpsters and back. He was _fast_ after all. _Real_ fast.

The air outside was extremely humid, suffocatingly oppressive, and _absolutely glorious._

Kuroo's lungs took in heaps of deep afternoon oxygen as he tramped loudly along the second story outdoor hallway, down the steps at the far end, and then around the old apartment building to the backside where he assumed he would find the dumpsters. 

He wasn't wrong. 

"Yes! I knew it!" Tetsurou cheered himself on with a canine-toothed smile. He would have fist pumped or busted out a super sentai move if the trash bag wasn't so freakin' heavy.

Wedged between two of the apartment buildings was a concrete alleyway with a few huge industrial-sized waste containers. He was much too short to reach the top of them, but he was a problem solver and quickly found a few mostly structurally-sound plastic crates that he piled up and stood on top of. A moment later the nine year old heaved their garbage up the makeshift structure and into the bins far more quickly and efficiently than he'd intended. 

Tetsurou vaguely wished this task had been much harder. He wasn't ready to go back in again… 

Suddenly, a scuffle came from inside the dumpster startling Tetsurou enough that he fell backwards off the boxes.

Luckily, he managed to land on his feet. He somehow always seemed to be able to do that (save for the egg accident he had earlier in the week). 

_"Brrooow!"_

"Huh?" 

The volley-kid scrambled back up his crate tower to peer inside the mountains of hot garbage.

It was a cat. 

Or… maybe more of a kitten? 

It didn't look quite full grown, but it wasn't a _baby-_ baby either. Its fur was all beautiful shades of mottled tortoiseshell, blacks and browns and oranges. It would have been a very pretty cat too if he wasn't able to count nearly every rib underneath it's matted, scruffy fur.

"Hi there," Tetsurou said cautiously as the little cat stared up at him from the heap of black and white drawstring bags and other foul-smelling waste. "I don't think you're going to find anything good to eat in there little kitty."

The cat who wasn't quite a cat nor a kitten blinked up at him slowly with dark golden eyes. 

_Friend?_

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Kuroo's small, curious voice asked as he stood sweating on the crates in his little gym shorts and tank top. His dirt-worn sneakers shuffled uncomfortably.

"Me too to be honest. But at least you can't see _my_ ribs," he remarked conversationally. 

The cat blinked again and then let out a high-pitched sorrowful cry. 

"Don't! Don't cry little kitty," Tetsurou pleaded, now feeling like a big dummy for standing and staring like a helpless butthead—which he _wasn't_. He was Tetsurou Kuroo! Problem solver, scientist, volley-kid, and do-gooder who could never let something or someone go hungry if he could do anything about it!

"I'll be right back, okay?" He quickly reassured the tortie as he hopped down from his crate stack.

_A mission!_

Kuroo felt useful for the first time since he'd come here as he hauled ass back around the building, up the flight of stairs, down the covered outdoor hallway, and into the still oppressively smelly apartment. He had scoured the fridge and pantry so many times at this point that he knew exactly what he had left.

It wasn't much. 

But it was something. 

Tetsurou grabbed an old nearly-expired can of tuna (which was impressive given the shelf-life of fish in general). He had been holding out on it, saving it for a sandwich if his mom would just bring home some leftover bread or something soon. Noodling around more he located a paper plate and a takeout pair of chopsticks. Success!

Running full-bore through the sticky humid air with the purpose of his rescue mission felt _incredible_. 

His heart was beating up through his ears as the too warm breeze flicked back the wild, unruly tresses of his bedhead. The high-pitched whine of cicadas was here too just like at home, but unlike home somewhere far away in the distance there was a muffled siren of some sort blaring its horn. Blood and adrenaline were pumping mad laps in his veins by the time he made it back to the dumpsters. His breath was gone but the wonderful sense of victory pleasantly filled his scrawny chest.

"Here little kitty! I brought you some tuna! Do you like tuna?" Tetsurou called up to the container as he dropped unceremoniously into a crouch to set the items down in the dirt. He cracked open the can.

A curious pointy-eared head popped up over the grimy ledge. Eyes wide and shiny and desperate.

"Do you want some?" Tetsurou asked again with that wry little gappy smile of his, the one that had been absent all week. Since he last saw Kenma really. 

"You can have it if you're hungry. You look hungry," he continued as he began to fish the strands of shredded tuna out onto the plate with the chopsticks.

That was all it took to convince the multi-colored cat to thrust itself up out of the waste container, down the crates, and onto the ground where it waited inquisitively and stared at Tetsurou. Eyes still gleaming, tiny black nose sniffing the air with curious interest.

"Here you go little friend," Kuroo said cheerfully, scooting the fishy plate over to the creature who glanced at it and then up at him hesitantly. It blinked slowly.

"I won't eat you. I just want to share," he explained, shrugging a little as he sat back on the patchy weeds growing up through the cracks in the asphalt. It was a graveyard of cigarette butts and litter here near the dumpsters and the side building. He held his skinny knees close to his chest and watched as the cat moved very slowly over to the strong-smelling plate then cautiously took a messy bite from the edge.

Apparently, that seemed to be all the confirmation the stray needed as it tore into the rest of the tuna without much regard for Tetsurou at all. 

He didn't mind though. It was clearly starving and no one, not even a cat, deserved to feel like that. The little boy just observed silently from the alley wall as the young feline devoured the meal like it didn't know when it would ever eat again. Eventually he rested his chin atop his knees and before he realized it his eyes were drooping shut, his energy fully spent and sapped from his successful rescue operation and the summer heat. There were stars behind his eyelids that danced to the rhythmic ambience of the cicada chorus that couldn't be heard from inside the apartment. 

It was comforting and peaceful like this. Almost like he was on Kenma's back porch with a popsicle after they'd gotten sweaty and tired from drilling together and laughing too hard in the backyard. Miki-san always seemed to appear just as they were winding down. She never failed to have at least a few different kinds of frozen treats for them to choose from. Sometimes there was mochi or ice cream, other times it was pops or the icy tubes that cut your mouth when you sucked on them but it didn't matter because you'd get a cool blue or red tongue out of it at the end. His dad of course had some desserts too, but it was nowhere near the amazing Kozume-level selection of yummy goodness.

God, he missed them. 

He missed them all so much it kind of hurt in his chest to think about it too hard. He needed his dad's laughing pat on the back which would turn into the ruffle of his shoulder, and then sometimes also a squirmy hug because he was getting too old to appreciate embarrassing ninja affection from his pop anymore. He needed the warm, cheerful greeting Miki-san would always give him whenever she realized he'd snuck into her house to play video games with Kenma. He needed his friend right now because he was the only one who would understand this craptacular situation and even if he didn't know how to get out of it himself, Kenma would listen to him and somehow make it seem like things would be okay. He needed things to be okay.

Man, he really, _really_ wished he could have a stupid popsicle with Kenma right now.

Sweat was drenching through his tank top when he hazily opened his eyes again. There were leftover spots in his vision as he squinted for clarity. The tuna was gone, but the cat was still there. Staring at him unblinkingly silent.

"Was it good?" Tetsurou asked softly, offering out a hand to it. To his surprise the cat immediately sprang over to nudge its head under his sticky palm. 

Grateful. It must have been grateful because it hugged the little volley-kid's hand over and over. Tripping forward too far only to double back and hug him again.

"Thanks," Kuroo whispered to it. He didn't know why he said it exactly, but the cat's clear affection and gratitude for him felt like such a contrast to everything else that had happened this week. It hurt too—this kindness from this small creature who he had done so little to try to help. 

His fingers curled around its chin and felt the vibrating, content purr roll out in waves as the tortoiseshell cat leaned into him almost hard enough to fall over.

But then Tetsurou's stomach let out such an ungodly growl that startled the cat and made it jump back a bit. It stared at him confused.

"I'm sorry," he tried to explain, his dark gray eyes pinched with guilt. A hand outstretched to beckon the cat back to him.

After a long moment, he received another headbutt hug.

"I can't help it," little Kuroo went on as he pet the stray. "Pretty sure you just ate the last of the fish little kitty. Now I'll have to wait for my mom to come home. If she comes home…"

The cat just purred as if to say everything would be alright. That his mom would surely come home and bring him tuna too. A kindness for a kindness. That's how karma worked in stories where cats could talk and reassure him of such things.

However, the cat was very, very wrong. No tuna would be brought home for Tetsurou that night or next night. 

In fact, nothing was brought home because _she_ never came home.

His stomach never stopped growling waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up we have the REAL rescue mission! Which I had actually worked on first then back-filled the story from there because these Kuroo and Kozume folks are an interesting bunch. Definitely missed Kenma in this chapter, but then again so did Kuroo and that's the point haha...
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Girls Are Heroes Too

When her cell phone buzzed on the coffee table, Miki Kozume assumed it was a spam call. After all, who on earth would be calling at such an odd hour? Her husband was home for once from his business trips, her kid was tucked soundly asleep in bed, and she had literally just finished a massive campaign at work so there was absolutely no one who could be calling this late other than a phone bot.

But curiosity got the better of her.

The call was seven rings deep and about to switch to voicemail when her calm golden eyes blew wide at the name on the screen. 

She nearly fell off the couch trying to clasp onto her device.

“Yes, hello? Tetsurou? Tetsu-chan, are you okay?" 

Miki's mom instincts were snapping off like a tent full of blazing summer festival fireworks. Whatever it was, he was probably NOT okay. He should not have even been AWAKE at this hour, let alone calling his neighbor who was cities apart from him like it was an _actual_ emergency. Good lord, maybe it WAS an emergency? 

A flood of pure panic instantly rose in her chest. 

_"Miki-san?"_ A trembling voice whimpered from the other end of the phone.

"Honey, are you okay? Where are you? Are you still at your mom's house?" She asked as calmly as she could, swiping a thick black lock of hair behind her ear. Eyes frantic, but focused.

 _"Y-Yea,"_ came a pathetic sniffle. 

He was crying. 

Tetsurou Kuroo didn't even cry when he accidentally busted his knees wide open and bloody on the asphalt at the park. He absolutely whined when she poured disinfectant on them, but not one tear was shed for something that her own boy would have been an absolute wreck over.

"Are you hurt?" She tried again to get clarification. Her heart was pumping madly with adrenaline. Please god, let him not be hurt...

 _"N-no. I-I'm just..."_ Kuroo's little voice cracked as he began to sob lightly into the phone. “ _S-so hungry... s-sst sst...”_

"Tetsu-chan, listen to me. Listen to me. Is there any food in the kitchen? In the fridge or the pantry? Did you look there?" Miki stood up as if that action could somehow help him get to his feet so that they could go look together, but then she sat back down realizing that was crazy and not what he needed right now.

 _"I-I already made it allllll,"_ Tetsurou cried louder as if he lamented the fact that he hadn't rationed it out. _"It's a-all GOONNNEE,"_ he added, sobbing even heavier. 

She could hear him hiccuping and shuddering out his breaths as he lost control of his emotions like she had never heard him do before. The last time she remembered handling a complete and utter meltdown was when Kenma was five and they had taken away his Nintendo privileges before school in the mornings because it was too hard to pry him off of them. But this… this was on a whole new level. There was real… _suffering_ in his voice. Her heart was breaking for him.

"Honey, when did you last eat?" She was terrified to know the answer. Her foot tapping madly as she sat hunched forward on the couch ready to pounce up again.

 _"This m-morning,"_ Tetsurou wailed miserably. _"I k-knew it was the last rice, b-but I was so h-hungry I-I had to."_

Miki Kozume's blood boiled. It was nearly 10:00 at night and he hadn't eaten anything _since that morning?_

"Where is your mom Tetsurou?" Her voice turned stone serious. "Is she home right now? Can you put her on?"

 _"N-no, she went out. I don't know where she is,"_ he hiccuped.

"When did she go out?"

 _"A-a few days ago,"_ Tetsurou sniffed and the muffled sound of fabric swiping against his cell phone told her he was trying to wipe his poor face. 

Her gut wrenched again for him, but at the same time Miki's golden eyes flared with pure unfiltered rage. _A few days ago?_ What the _hell?_

Reluctantly, she bit her tongue and kept her shit together for the scared little boy on the end of the line.

“How many days has she been gone?” Kenma's mom asked with all the sound patience she didn't feel at the moment.

 _“Like… like three?”_ The volley-kid hesitantly asked like he was trying to remember and also count on his fingers to make sure he was correct.

Miki closed her eyes in stunned silence for a moment.

Then she found her voice again.

"Alright Tetsu-chan. I am so sorry kiddo, but that is _not_ okay. Did you try calling your daddy?" She continued her line questioning despite feeling like every answer was going to make her throw up.

 _"He didn't pick up,"_ the nine year old's voice cracked like this was particularly painful to him. That his dad wasn't there when he needed him so badly.

"Okay,” Miki breathed out, finding her resolve while formulating a game plan which may or may not be entirely legal, but she didn't give a damn at this point. The kid was _starving._ Where the _hell_ was Joji? Was he out of town or something? She vaguely remembered something about a conference and the possibility of a sleepover happening before all this ex-wife nonsense cropped up.

"Tetsu-chan, I am coming to get you, alright? Did your dad write the address down for you? I need you to go find the address and then we'll figure it out together, okay?" Miki tried her best to sound comforting and calm when inside she was raging through the nine layers of demonic hell wondering which one she'd find Tetsurou's biological mother in.

After a few minutes of hearing the little boy scuffle around through the belongings he'd been allowed to take with him, Tetsurou found the address and read it carefully aloud to Kenma's mom. 

_"I don't know this kanji though,"_ Kuroo frowned, staring at the last character on a piece of lined notebook paper that his dad had scrawled the address onto. He'd written the emergency contact phone numbers here too, presumably in case the cell phone was lost or taken away.

"That's okay. I think I have enough to figure it out, Tetsu-chan. Thank you. It looks like it's about an hour away from here. Could you pack up your stuff and be ready by then?" She asked gently, grabbing her purse and her keys from the hallway console. 

_"Yea,"_ he said in an uncharacteristically quiet tone. He wasn't crying anymore, but she could tell he was tired and still hungry. 

"Sweetie, try to go drink some water in the meantime, okay? Stay hydrated. I'll bring you something yummy, alright?" Miki promised glancing upstairs.

_"Okay."_

"Okay. Just one hour. See you soon. Promise."

Miki felt sick to her stomach. 

What kind of _monster_ leaves their _nine year old_ for over _three days_ by _himself?_ She had barely left Kenma alone for three hours recently and that was only because she had somehow forgotten her damn laptop in the city at work and had to get back on the train during rush hour to retrieve it.

Three days was incomprehensible. Unbelievable. Totally unacceptable. 

To her credit, she tried calling Joji on his house phone several times and then his cell several more, pacing the distance between their living room and kitchen all the while. She left a few cryptic voicemails that slowly turned into more blunt ones as her frustration grew. 

_Your son. Left alone. Hungry. Scared. Your ex is gone. Please pick up. Going to do something crazy. Okay. Doing the crazy thing. For real. For real, for real… Fine._ _Totally doing it. I warned you._

It was a little past 10:00 at night, but a determined Miki Kozume knew what she had to do. Walking upstairs to her son's room she noticed a familiar glow under his door. 

Damn that child. She had tucked him in bed over an hour ago and had told him no more video games. On top of which, he'd already generously been given permission to stay up later because it was summer break...

Her knuckles tapped lightly on the door. The glow underneath flashed out. She opened it carefully and the light from the hallway flooded in through broken shadows.

"Kenma-chan? Are you awake?" Miki called softly to her son.

Silence.

"Sweetie, I'm not mad."

More silence. Then a small stir in the bed.

"I'm going to go pick up your friend Tetsu-chan now," she explained, jingling the keys in her hand a bit for emphasis.

"What?" A confused little voice said clearly through the darkness.

"He needs to come home and since his daddy is out of town I'm going to go get him."

"Right now?" The eight year old asked confused from his Legend of Zelda-themed bed. His mussed black hair stuck up sweetly as he popped his alert head out of the covers.

"Yes, I have to go now." 

She bit her lip wondering if she really should...

"Do you want to come with me?"

Maybe it was a bad idea. Kiyoshi was home tonight and her son probably would have been asleep the entire time she was gone anyway. But Kenma was such good friends with Tetsurou, the only child she had ever seen connect so deeply with her own, and their precocious little neighbor was really upset right now. He was in trouble. He needed them. And in any case, how could she be any worse a mother than the vile piece of shit who left her child to starve and fend for himself? _For three days_. She would never be over this.

"I can go? Mommy, isn't it… late?"

"It is honey, but Tetsu-chan needs some help. You don't have to come if you don't want to," Miki reassured him. She gave him a choice. She always tried to do that if she could. To let him try things when he thought he'd like to and to give him an out if he wasn't comfortable or changed his mind.

Her son scrambled out of bed.

"Okay then. It's settled," Miki grinned knowing her kid was a valiant hero at heart. "Let's bring Tetsurou some fresh clothes, okay?" 

"Okay."

They packed a small superhero backpack of things, unsure of what Kuroo had brought with him to his mother's (or if he still had the items he did bring). Their collaboration loaded the pack with a change of clean PJs, a sweater that was too big for Kenma anyway, tissues, a fresh toothbrush, toothpaste, chapstick, action figures, two juice packs and some grapes that Miki scavenged from the kitchen and came back up with, and a little packet of Konpeito candy. 

Kenma tried to zip the front pocket up over the lumpy ziplocked fruit. "Mom, why does Kuro need to come home right now?" 

The innocence of this question actually stunned her for a moment. Then it unleashed a deep, fresh wave of guilt. How do you explain to a child that not all mommies are good people? She fought to find the right words.

"Because his own mama can't watch him anymore," Miki explained evenly, running quick fingers through her son’s dark shoulder length hair to get it out of his eyes. He looked so much more like her with it long like this.

"Why not?" Kenma asked just as innocently as before. His golden eyes were wide and concerned in the dim light of his bedroom.

"That's actually a very good question. I don't know the answer and we may not ever know. But what I _do_ know is that your friend needs our help and we're going to go do just that," she reasoned diplomatically.

"Like a rescue mission?" Kenma's eyes grew rounder with the realization.

"Hmm, yea! Like a rescue mission. Also, you don't have to get dressed Kenma-chan," his mother said thoughtfully as he had begun to pick out a day shirt from his dresser.

"I don't? But we're going outside..." His face scrunched up in adorable confusion. Her son generally liked to follow "the rules," a trait he had gotten from his father god bless him. Miki was slowly injecting a little rebelliousness in him though. She wanted him to have the ability to think for himself and to question authority if something didn't feel right. Also, there was no time to mess around with wardrobe changes, she wasn't getting out of these yoga pants so no reason to waste more time with her son's PJs either.

"That's okay. It's a nighttime mission, remember?" She reasoned, hoping he'd take the bait.

"Oh. Right..."

Phew.

"Okay! Operation rescue Tetsu-chan commence!" His mom said brightly as she slung the child-sized backpack over her shoulder, purse and keys in hand pointing victoriously towards the hallway landing.

Downstairs she turned on the porchlight as they traipsed out of the house, little Kenma hopping out the front door in his blue dinosaur pajamas and adorable red sneakers. Miki was about to lock up, but then dashed inside to grab two throw blankets from the couch.

"Alrighty, are you ready to save Tetsurou, Kenma-chan?" She asked in an enthusiastic whisper yell as she unlocked the car. The other neighbors didn't need to know about their super secret plans.

"Yea!" Kenma agreed eagerly, mirroring her whispered enthusiasm. 

She opened the vehicle door for him and he scrambled into the backseat which was a little cluttered with stuff from their previous outings at the larger park that she sometimes took the boys to. Even though Kenma seemed excited to be trusted with such an important mission, she could tell he was getting sleepy already. He hadn't gotten a wink of shut eye because of that new game he was obsessed with, so there was a solid 0% chance of him staying awake the whole car ride there or back.

Miki double-checked her son's seat belt then threw a blanket over his lap. She took off his shoes and then tucked the edges of the soft fabric under his cute, wiggly striped cat socks. Once he looked satisfactorily snuggled up, she dropped the child's backpack onto the seat beside him and left the other blanket there too.

They got on the suburban Tokyo streets, then the city highway south shortly after that. It was almost 10:30 at night meaning they wouldn't even get there until closer to midnight now. Miki felt another horrible wave of guilt for not hurrying her son up as much as she could have. Tetsurou was literally _starving_ and she had let Kenma debate whether or not his friend would prefer the Batman figure to the Red Super Sentai one... 

Her foot pressed harder on the gas and the speedometer increased accordingly. Glancing in the rearview mirror she could tell Kenma was trying hard to fight sleep, head bobbing down and then snapping back to attention a moment later.

"I'll wake you up when we get there honey," she said reassuringly, her eyes softening in the reflection.

"Thanks mom," Kenma sniffed from the security of his warm blankie burrito. It wasn't long until his head bobbed one more time and he was out. 

The radio crackled fuzzy for a moment before the signal came back in. Miki passed another slow driver and was grateful none of them were being rude and sitting in the passing lane right now. At least there was one solid positive to it being so late—most people had work in the morning and were not driving like the little speed demon racing characters from that Mario game the kids sometimes played... She couldn’t believe any of this was really happening. How could a kid in a country like this be _starving?_ How could that happen to such a brilliant little spitfire like Tetsurou? What other horrors had he not told her about? Had he truly not eaten since that morning or had it been longer and he was afraid to say so?

Miki shook her head quickly and bit her lip in thought.

She couldn't imagine a world where she would _ever_ do _anything_ to hurt her precious little boy in the back seat. Why on _earth_ did Tetsurou's mother even bother to fight for summer break visitation rights? Clearly she had zero interest in keeping her son alive, let alone doing normal stuff like just spending time getting to know her kid. It was inconceivable to Miki how anyone could do this to a child. Let alone _their own_ child.

And just how had he survived three days totally alone anyway? Tetsurou said he'd cooked rice, so maybe he tried cooking other things? She greatly doubted the nine year old's capacity to even know how to operate a rice cooker (Kenma certainly didn't), let alone more complicated things like a stove top or an oven. Maybe there was a microwave he'd been able to figure out? Or maybe she just wasn’t giving him enough credit...

Her own stomach growled, making her feel even worse for her ornery little neighbor boy. Unintended tears welled up in her golden eyes, but she willed them away. There wasn't time for that. She needed to _drive_ like this kid's life depended on it because maybe it did. 

The drive itself went quicker than she had expected with next to zero traffic and no late night speed traps to contend with. Miki found the exit they needed that led to the apartment complex which was supposed to be rather close by.

She eyed the late night fast food chains dotted along the road and pulled into one that was known for good chicken nuggets and french fries. Sure it wasn't the _healthiest_ thing, but screw anyone who thought it was worse than _literally nothing._ Besides, it was incredibly late and nothing else was open except for a sketchy diner across the street and few other equally artery-clogging selections. Nuggets were _fine._

As Miki ordered the kids' meals and a coffee for herself she heard her son stir in the backseat.

"We've got nuggets coming Kenmmmaaaa," she sang quietly and smiled at his sleepy mussed head in the rearview. Once she pulled up to wait at the takeout window she reached an arm back behind her seat to playfully grab his foot.

"Mama, no!" Kenma giggled, still groggy but slowly waking up as his foot wiggled away from her tickling fingers. She managed to squeeze his blanketed toes one more time before she straightened up and paid for their food. 

They got back on the road a minute later. Miki stole one of the fries because they smelled too good not to. She missed empty carbs. Kenma chewed his own in the back seat, he’d wait to eat his nuggets with Kuroo though.

"We're almost there baby. You ready to go save your friend?" She asked as brightly as she could. Her enthusiasm levels starting to wane in earnest now. Time for coffee.

"Yea," Kenma agreed, staring out the window at the strange neighborhood they were driving into. "Where are we?" 

"I'm not quite sure," his mother answered honestly. "But the GPS says it's right up ahead so we should be there in a sec."

The surroundings were grim to say the least. Japan on a whole had a pretty good standard of living, however, this did not exempt the country from having small pockets where crime rates, drugs, and poverty were slightly higher than the rest of the nation. Miki felt like such a sucker for believing that Tetsurou had been in a place that _wasn't_ a shithole after talking with Joji last week about it. Of _course_ it was because that’s the scariest sort of place one would never want to have to leave their child in... The puzzle pieces were finally clicking together.

"What's that lady doing?" Kenma asked innocently as he stared out the window.

Miki was taking a swig of her coffee when she spotted the hooker they were speeding past. Her golden eyes bugged out and she swallowed the wrong way making her cough and spew little flecks of coffee over the steering wheel and dash.

"Ack—She… she was waiting for a bus probably," Miki reasoned through a strained voice, grateful that her mom instincts had made her pretty good at bullshitting on the spot.

Kenma didn't say anything, which meant that he simply accepted his mother's words as truth. _Thank god_ because there was no way she'd be able to weasel out of _that_ during family dinner conversation. She imagined her husband's eyebrows nearly hitting the roof and then the hushed conversation they’d have in private afterwards where she would have to explain that NO, she didn't let him get that Grand Theft Auto game like he wanted and YES, she didn't go into any great detail about it.

“Oh no…” Miki mumbled under her breath, mouth hanging open slightly. “It can’t be here…” 

They pulled into a dingy apartment complex that at best looked pretty run down and old and at worst was likely a hotspot for drugs and other unsavory things. She drove slowly trying to avoid parking near any cars with people about them. There was one vehicle in the lot with plumes of smoke and music rising from its open windows. Another had a couple scrambling out of it, clearly wasted and giggling at something as they tried to find their keys to their apartment which appeared to be in the still running car they'd just vacated. 

Miki didn't appreciate the ticking nervous feeling that told her this place was far too active for it being so late. She parked the car away from the strange activity, but made no moves to get out of it. Silently watching the drunken woman stumble back to her vehicle, throw up on the pavement very nearly missing her own stilettos, then retrieve her keys. The car with the smoke still sat there unchanged. 

Logic screamed that this place wasn't very safe, especially for outsiders like them, but Miki was here now and she’d be _damned_ if she’s going to let a little boy starve while she could do something about it.

“Kenma let’s be quick, okay? In and out. We don’t have a lot of time,” she explained evenly as she forced down her apprehension and replaced it with unshakeable determination. 

“Got it,” Kenma agreed solemnly.

The two exited the vehicle. Miki immediately grabbed a hold of her son’s hand, slung the small child’s backpack over her shoulder, and locked the car. Her eyes darted from each of the active areas in the parking lot and then walked briskly with her kid over to the building Tetsurou indicated like she totally lived there and shouldn’t be questioned. Although she didn’t exactly look like a current resident, she did have an authority about her that made it seem like a stupid idea to mess with her.

Fortunately, they made it to the second floor landing without incident, but not without Miki sweating every solid step she took to get there. They passed door after paint-peeling door along the covered hallway until they reached the unit marked 217. 

Without hesitation, Miki Kozume knocked hard—her urgency compounded by the fact that they were later than she said they’d be and that she wanted to get out of here as soon as humanly possible. Hopefully he’d given her the right address. Hopefully some stranger wasn’t about to appear and ask them what the hell they were doing on their doorstep in the middle of the night...

There was a scuffle beyond, then the clicking of multiple locks being undone. The door finally cracked open the tiniest bit.

Relief flooded through her. 

The same bed-headed, scruffy little Tetsurou stood there with his backpack on already and appeared to be physically unharmed (although she knew that wasn’t entirely true). He beamed with something that was a mix between raw desperation, disbelieving hope, and sheer happiness.

“You came!” He exclaimed as he immediately launched himself onto Kenma, trapping him in a hug of seismic proportions.

Kenma’s golden eyes went wide for a moment, but then he smiled wryly—half-embarrassed and still tired from the late night adventure.

“Of course we did,” the eight year old mumbled as he hugged his friend back quickly and then tried to let go, probably in hopes that Kuroo would stop because his mom was watching and he didn’t want it to be weird.

Of course Kuroo didn’t care if it was weird. He had been starved of human interaction too during this strange week at his mom’s and seeing Kenma again made him feel so happy he could cry but he didn’t want to do _THAT_ anymore so a good (albeit entirely too long) hug was an excellent alternative.

“Oh, Tetsu-chan,” Miki sighed with a grateful smile creeping up onto her face. She loved seeing just how much her son’s friendship had grown with this scrappy little kid next door. Even if this hug somewhat embarrassed Kenma, it was still _really_ cute. If it were any other day or situation she’d be trying to sneak a photo right now, but time was of the essence.

“Okay kiddos, let’s grab all your stuff and hit the road! No time to waste. Chop, chop!” She declared as they walked just inside the genkan to help Tetsurou with his things. 

Miki was wholly unsurprised at the disgust she felt entering this place. It smelled heavily of cigarettes, the evidence of which was snuffed out in various ashtrays among the tiny kitchenette and living room spaces. Not only that, but there was a distinct lingering wet musky stench that may have been from the furniture or the carpet or both. Her nose wrinkled, but she did her best to hide how grossed out she was as she directed loose, lightweight things for Kenma to carry and designated Tetsurou’s duffel bag for herself.

“Oh yea, Tetsurou we brought you these,” Miki remembered as she pulled out the fresh pair of Kenma’s pajamas that she hoped would fit him because they were new so her son hadn’t fully grown into them yet.

“Huh? Oh, cool! Thanks!” Kuroo exclaimed as he took the folded clean clothes from her with wonderment shining in his dark gray eyes.

Then to her surprise he began to change into them. Like… right there at the genkan. Haphazardly, stripping off his old clothes and tugging on the summer sleep tee and shorts combo which seemed to fit okay enough.

She was going to make a lighthearted joke about his funny casual nudity because it wasn't like they were at the pool or anything, but then she saw it. 

Branded right there on his skinny partially-tanned forearm was what appeared to be a bright red burn mark among the dark patches of bruises. This had not been there a little over a week ago when the boys had last played together and Joji sat lamenting next to her at the park. The bruises looked awful as they were starting to turn yellow and green from healing, but she knew those were simply from bumping the volleyball too much. Kenma still had his too. 

But the burn was new. Without a doubt in her mind it was.

However, in this moment she chose to say nothing. She didn’t want to alarm him or give him any reason to think he ought to hide it or that he might get in trouble for whatever happened that may have caused it. Although she _did_ want to know the story behind it. Was it an accident? Or maybe it wasn't? Surely it couldn't have been a… a punishment… right? 

God this was a lot to process in such a disorientingly short amount of time.

“How do I look?” Tetsurou asked as he stretched the Mario “Game On” tee out in front of him so he could see himself. He struck a ninja stance with his legs and seemed incredibly pleased with his new fashion statement.

“Like a noob,” Kenma stated without hesitation.

“Hey!” Kuroo laughed brightly, shoving his friend’s shoulder a little as he tried to bite back his toothy, playful grin. It didn't work. He was smiling like he hadn't been able to smile in years.

“What’s a noob?” Miki asked neutrally as she heaved the duffel bag onto her free shoulder. She was starting to feel like a pack mule with all this stuff. 

To her surprise both boys broke out into a rolling fit of giggles that wouldn’t even let them get any coherent words, let alone sentences, out to explain their unique vocabulary. Tetsurou actually _snorted_ he was so tickled pink by this. Her eyebrows raised in amusement at the curious reaction. 

“Okay, okay, funny stuff obviously. Secret boy stuff that’s not for moms, I get it,” Miki reasoned as she shook her head and peered around the dark, sad place Tetsurou had been inhabiting all by himself for far too long. 

“Do we have everything Tetsu-chan? Nothing else you brought with you?”

He was still catching his breath from the laughter as if he didn’t know how to contain his joy after being deprived of it.

“Pfft, yea, I think this is everything,” the nine year old snickered, swiping a hand across his face and up into his bedhead in an attempt to cool his jets. The messy tufts of the trademark Kuroo family fringe only got messier.

“Okie dokie then, let’s get—”

Kenma suddenly grabbed his friend by arm.

“...Your ball.”

“OH MY GOSH, my ball!” Tetsurou exclaimed in horror, jumping up for a second and then tearing off across the living room and into a small bathroom. _(Why_ it was in the bathroom Miki had no clue.) He came out a moment later clutching and squeezing the volleyball to his chest like a precious long-lost treasure.

“Oh. Good call Kenma-chan. How’d you know about that?” His mom asked, blinking and impressed.

“He doesn’t go anywhere without it,” the eight year old gamer shrugged with the slightest eye roll. 

She may have accidentally taught him that. It aggravated Kiyoshi when either of them rolled their eyes, but it was pretty cute that Kenma was picking up some of her tendencies too and not just her husband's overly-cautious, anxious behavior. She did admit that a few years from now when he was likely an angsty preteen she would probably regret not chastising him for it.

“Kenma, I think you just saved my _life!”_ Tetsurou beamed as he shoulder bumped his friend, still clutching his precious ball to his chest. 

Kenma shoulder bumped him back ever so slightly. 

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“No, it’s _not!”_

“Yea, it is.”

“Is not! You totally did!”

“Did not...”

“OKAY! Good stuff boys, but we got nuggets to eat and bedtime to catch so let’s make like a tree and leave!” Miki opened the door for them to encourage movement.

“What’s that even mean…” Kenma mused walking out.

“Yea! Trees don’t go anywhere, right?” Kuroo cocked his little roosterhead as he followed.

Miki Kozume let out a deep, deep sigh of relief as she shut the apartment door.

Tetsurou was safe again. 

He was coming home. 

That woman would hopefully _never_ legally be allowed near him _ever_ again. 

Perhaps Miki would be dragged into some of the legal bullshit herself for pulling a stunt like this, but she defied anyone to tell her she didn’t do the right thing. He was just a kid. He didn’t deserve this blatant neglect or hunger or the burn on his arm or the tears he’d shed during this traumatic experience. She would never have forgiven herself if she’d known even a fraction of these horrors and did nothing. They could come at her for it. In fact, she wanted to see them try because nobody messed with Miki Kozume’s boys. And from that point on, that’s what they were. 

Her boys.

—

The ride back home was filled with the nomming of lukewarm chicken nuggets, slightly soggy french fries, grapes, and then the Konpeito candy she had forgotten about which she was definitely going to find the rainbow remnants of later on. Miki vaguely worried that one or both of the kids might throw up in the back seat because A) that was a lot of greasy/sugary food being consumed very quickly and B) Kenma was already prone to car sickness and in the rush she’d forgotten to put a sea band on his wrist to help with that. 

Luckily, there was no puke. Just rapidfire conversation between the boys that she didn’t understand half of because it either had to do with volleyball or video games or shows, but this didn’t bother her or matter much because they were endlessly entertaining anyway. Tetsurou was the only child she’d ever met who could make Kenma laugh like he was a _little_ -little kid again. Back when he had fewer reservations and wasn’t as cautious or guarded as he’d become more recently. It was better than any music ever could be—the sounds of her son chatting back and forth with this kid who so obviously found him just as amusing and fun to be with. 

By the time they got home, the boys were laughing until they were breathless again. Something about Tetsurou stinking at “Virtua Fighter,” which she could only assume was one of Kenma’s games (she didn’t recall all their exact names, though she did try to sort through the ratings before she bought them or let him buy his own). She honestly was surprised neither of them had fallen asleep during the ride, but secretly she was grateful for this because it meant she didn’t have to figure out the logistics of waking and/or guiding two heavy older children up to the second floor.

It was well past midnight and Miki’s own bedtime as she leaned against the bathroom door frame and watched as her son and his friend brushed their teeth shoulder to shoulder. Tetsurou had grown so much in the year they’d known him. She wondered how quickly Kenma was going to sprout up next, but banished the thought because he was still small and sweet and it hurt too much to think about him growing up faster than she wanted.

“I’d say we’re mission complete, huh guys?” Miki smiled with tired golden eyes as they spit into the sink and rinsed their brushes. 

“Quest complete mom,” Kenma corrected with a yawn as he padded sleepily out the bathroom door to his bedroom across the hall.

Miki frowned. 

It had been a mission before. Right? She wasn’t crazy...

All of a sudden, Miki felt the impact of two scrawny arms wrap around her waist. 

“You okay, Tetsu-chan?” She asked warmly, returning the hug with her own gentle embrace. Her fingers brushed back his messy hair in an attempt to see his eyes, but he was squishing his cheek tight against her. 

“I’m okay,” he answered in a small, tired, yet unbelievably relieved voice. 

“I think you could use a good sleep, huh?” She mused, still sorting through his crazy wild hair.

He nodded into her.

“Tetsurou,” Miki cleared her throat. “Honey, look at me for a second.”

The nine year old did just that. His innocent, sleepy eyes peering up at her.

“You did the right thing, you know that? If you are ever in trouble and you can’t get a hold of your daddy you call me, okay? Or you find Kenma-chan or Kiyoshi-san, any of us, and we’ll help you. I don’t want you to ever feel like no one has your back, alright?” 

Tetsurou bit his lip and nodded solemnly. 

Miki hugged him tighter.

“You always have a place here. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Honestly, this explicit promise _was_ forgotten over time by Tetsurou himself. But its meaning, its legacy, was evident in everything Miki Kozume did, allowed, or encouraged from then on. 

On that night, the promise was kept in the way she tucked them both into Kenma’s bed, snuggled up beside each other in a disarray of pillows, blankets, plushies, and Zelda. Evident in goodnight kisses and the suggestion of pancakes in the morning. A morning that she would never forget when they finally got a hold of Joji-san and he was beyond mortified at the events that had transpired as his cell sat dead and trying to recharge in his hotel room north of the city. He immediately called his lawyer after that and the process of permanently wiping that deranged, drugged out woman from Tetsurou's life began.

But Miki's promise grew and manifested in so many other ways throughout the kids' childhood, their teens, and on through their adult lives.

That summer Kuroo was given a drawer in Kenma’s dresser to fill with extra clothes so that they never had to try to fit him into garments that were clearly not his size again. It eventually grew into two drawers and then scattered in various places around Kenma's room, so much so that she could hear them arguing about it like an old married couple even though they were just barely graduating high school.

Tetsurou's height was also marked every year beside Kenma’s on the door frame just inside the kitchen, so it was well documented when he shot up in centimeters that the gamer kid couldn’t hope to surpass.

Those centimeters came in handy when the boys started playing volleyball in earnest. That summer she had _begged_ coach Nekomata to let both of them back in the youth training camp even though they missed the first day and had already been pulled out of the roster. By some magic stroke of luck he said yes and even though it wasn’t the _full_ experience both Tetsurou and Kenma would go on to make some beautiful memories together at that camp, and afterwards they seemed to train even harder for the positions they wanted on their school teams.

Another subtle change was that Miki always made absolutely certain that the boys had access to a fully-stocked fridge and pantry, even if they often disappointed her by picking the unhealthiest options or bingeing on energy drinks for all nighter gaming sleepovers and eventually final exams study sessions.

The upshot to all of this was that from middle school onward Tetsurou would offer to help with _grocery shopping,_ which meant her begrudging son also got dragged along to the store to help.

It made things easier not only because they could pick out what they wanted to eat and help carry it all home, but because Tetsurou actually had a lot of opinions about food and ingredients. It was refreshing to have a dialogue that she understood (instead of “speaking nerd” as Kenma called it), and even as Tetsurou grew he continued to be able to talk kitchen shop with her and often put his hand up to help make dinner after school since he was a regular at their house now. Joji had eventually taken on more and more evening classes at the university, so naturally his son was welcome at the Kozume house any and every day so he never had to eat a meal alone again.

And thankfully, he never did.

—

"Tadaima boys!"

"Welcome home!"

"Okaeri…"

Miki took her work flats off at the door and stared into the kitchen with bemused interest.

The counters were covered with fresh ingredients and bowls and used measuring cups, of which Tetsurou appeared to be the master orchestrator as he stood at the sink apparently showing Kenma how to peel garlic. Her teenage son's shining blonde hair that she'd helped him dye last year was growing out, so much so that he had to tie it back into the tiniest ponytail and use some of her hair clips to get the bangs out of his concentrating eyes. 

"Oh my goodness, what are you guys up to?" Miki asked with grinning curiosity. 

They had been doing this more frequently. Cooking dinner together for her before she got home from work (or mostly together anyway, sometimes Kenma sat at the kitchen table playing a game while keeping Tetsurou company). 

"It's—"

"Kenma!! Shhh!!! It's a surprise Miki-san, don't worry about it. We got it covered. Total competence at work here," Tetsurou grinned with a genuine confidence she had had the privilege of watching blossom over the years.

"If this is your standard of 'total competence' you are definitely failing those entrance exams," Kenma muttered in monotone as he struggled to peel the shell of a garlic clove off into a plastic bag they had sitting in the sink for waste.

Kuroo playfully whacked her son's back with a dish towel.

"Total competence Kenma! You got this! Shuck that clove like you're setting it right here to my cutting board!" 

Kenma threw the piece of half-peeled garlic at him. Kuroo balked and began to let out that deep, rolling laughter Miki had become so accustomed to over the years. She could hear it upstairs as they played video games or watched movies, in the backyard when they threw the ball around (which they did less now since they had dedicated after school practice), and even all the way down the street as they walked home together. This laugh had become so fundamental to the Kozume home that it literally brought tears to Miki's eyes thinking about how much it would be missed when Tetsurou went off to university in the spring.

But she wouldn't think of this now. Nope. By some graceful stroke of fortune her boys were making her dinner again and she wasn't going to ruin it with tears.

"Mom?"

Miki startled from her thoughts, losing her grip as she leaned on the counter watching the two of them banter.

"Yea? What do you need sweetie?" 

"Why are you crying?" Kenma asked quietly as he paused with his peeling task. His watchful concerned eyes peering up at her amid hair-clipped blonde bangs and a worried frown. 

Crap. 

Miki swiped her face quickly and put on an exaggerated smile to hide her emotions. The reality was that Tetsurou was leaving soon, so Kenma was only a year out from that fate too. The mixture of parental pride and loss she preemptively felt caught her at the weirdest times.

"Kenma, it's okay to cry," Kuroo interjected hotly. "Just let her have her proud mama cat moment as she watches her son transform into a top-notch culinary expert!"

Kenma scoffed at this and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I'll never be good at this and you know it, so stop blowing smoke up—"

Miki interrupted both of them by placing a firm hand on each of their shoulders and giving a quick peck on the cheek to her son then reached up to place another on the cheek of the taller teen.

"I'm good, boys. Thanks for dinner. I'm sure it'll be great whatever it is," she assured them with a hopeless grin.

This seemed to set off another round of clapback banter that at times she wished she recorded because she knew someday soon she'd miss it—the sounds of their back and forth dialogue as they cooked for _her_ now. It was a strange twist (and gift) in life, but she was here for it. She always had been. Miki Kozume never once in all the years of her son's childhood minded Tetsurou coming over for dinner or company or advice. She loved both her sons more than anything in the world, and nothing would ever change that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, thank you SO much for reading! I know it was a lot of tears to get to the happy ending, but hopefully it was worth it.
> 
> I had actually started writing this fic with the very beginning of this chapter and then worked backwards, sideways, and upside down to get it to shake out how it seemed it should. I just didn't fully realize (despite having a pretty detailed outline) how much angst there'd be to sort through, which believe it or not hurts just as much to write as it does to read so thanks for bearing with me.
> 
> Also, if you need less angst to recover (or more Kuroken banter, fluff, etc) check out some of my other fics that happen after these childhood events. Or check out my newbie [Twitter](https://twitter.com/avogara). Until next time all you crazy cats. ✌️


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